


A Typical Adventure

by Chef_Rowl



Series: Tabenon [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal, Creampie, Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Knotting, Rough Sex, Sex, Size Difference, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2020-01-31 11:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18590671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chef_Rowl/pseuds/Chef_Rowl
Summary: In the fantastical land of Tabenon, two travelers hire a lone sellsword and set out on a world-spanning journey full of wild experiences, new friends, bloody violence, and rowdy sex.





	1. The Adventure Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one chapter's rated T tho, but yeah the rest are very very E

Bendorf is a fishing village near where the border between Tamaa and Veia meets the sea. It is like any other fishing village; sturdy wood-and-stone buildings line the shore and dozens of piers stretch out to sea. Hundreds of small boats sit at anchor in the fading daylight, fishing done for the day. Shops are beginning to close their doors, market stalls their shutters. The village is growing quiet as the working people head home for the evening.

Like any other fishing village, Bendorf has a longhouse. And like any other longhouse, it’s full of patrons merrymaking after a day of hard work. Humans and non-humans alike are drinking and carousing, feasting and singing, gambling and cheering. Into this liveliness wandered two figures, hooded and cloaked, hesitantly making their way to the counter. The bartender watched their approach curiously; he leaned in as they drew near. “Can I help ye?”

“Ah, yes,” a male but high voice replied from one of the hoods. “We were told we could find hired help here?”

The bartender leaned back with a _harumph_. “Two options, kid. Ask around or put a notice on the board.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating a large framed slate on the back wall of the longhouse.

“Oh, ok. Thank you,” the same hood responded. A fair-skinned hand emerged from a sleeve and deposited a coin on the countertop. The bartender glanced at it and his beady eyes brightened in surprise. He wordlessly snapped up the coin and produced two tankards filled with mead before the cloaks could turn away. They paused, then took them and nodded their thanks.

The cloaks moved away from the bar in the general direction of the notice board, sipping daintily from their tankards. “What now, sister?”

“Let’s ask around. I don’t want to have to wait,” the other hood replied with a similar but distinctly female voice.

They approached the first sober-looking patron they saw. Briefly, they explained that they were foreigners passing through the country and were looking for a guide and a guard to hire for some time, likely over a month. They were shooed away, their request dismissed as ridiculous. Most others they approached responded similarly, but at last they were pointed to a man sitting alone in as quiet a corner as is possible in a longhouse.

The man looked up from his tankard as they approached. He was clad in a leather tunic reinforced with steel plates, and a full helmet adorned with two horns curling from above the eye-slit. His face was hidden from the cloaks, but the way his shoulders squared showed he was wary of them. They sat across the table from him, and pulled their hoods down to reveal their faces.

They appeared to be human siblings, though incredibly similar even as identical twins go. Both had fair skin, sun-reddened on the nose and cheeks; small noses and high cheekbones framed by slender jawlines. Four blue eyes regarded the armored man from under two cornsilk mops of shoulder-length hair. Both were androgynously attractive, barely distinguishable from the other. The sister was only known by her fuller lips, the brother only known by his voice. “We were told you are a sellsword.”

“I am.” His voice sounded as if a stony beach had learned to speak.

“We’re foreigners in this land. We wish to hire someone to act as our guide and our guard as we travel west.”

“How far west?”

The twins shared a look. “We are trying to travel in secret,” the sister responded cautiously. “We would prefer not to share details until you have agreed.”

The sellsword shook his head. “That’s not how contract workers operate, girl.”

The two parties glared at each other in silence for a minute. The twins made no indication of leaving.

“Tell you what, you two seem to be in dire need, so let us lay all our cards on the table, hm?” He reached up with hands larger than either sibling’s head and removed his helmet. The horns stayed in place even as he set the helmet down next to his drink. The twins blinked in surprise as they took in the man’s face, for he was unlike any human or non-human they’d ever seen.

His skin was red, like scarlet drapes seen through a sooty window. Two ram-like horns grew from his brow, curling back around pointed ears before coming to razor-sharp tips near his jaw. Completely dark eyes were set into a wide, hard face. Pitch-black hair fell neatly to the nape of his neck. He smiled mirthlessly, his straight white teeth contrasting sharply with the rest of his gritty appearance. “I’ve shown you mine, time to show me yours.”

The twins shared another look. The brother shrugged as the sister tried to stifle an excited smile. They turned back to the sellsword, and he saw that their eyes had become reptilian; vertical slitted pupils set in orange irises regarded him with a peculiar mix of playfulness and paranoia. The sellsword grinned in earnest before donning his helmet once again. “Well, this certainly just became the most interesting thing I’ve seen all year. Tell me then, what’s your aim?”

“We have your employ?” The brother asked, his eyes returning to normal.

“You have my _attention_.”

“You can have _me_ , if you want,” the sister added, batting her pretty blues at him.

“Veera! Not now. Without going into the history of _why_ , we need to get my charming sister to Isekaino.”

“Ah, the mythical continent of nephilim, twisted over centuries by bored and lusty demons. Elves who over generations have become promiscuous beings that while the days away ploughing in the forests. Dryads who leave their trees to relieve weary travelers of their stress. Naiads who emerge from ponds and rivers to force pleasure on the more adventurous individuals. Fruits that exaggerate your endowments and fountains that increase your libido. A well-known fairy tale, but certainly one you wouldn’t tell your children.”

The twins shifted uncomfortably, but their faces were resolute.

“It’ll cost you.”

“Obviously.” The brother produced a coin and laid it on the table. It was like the one he had given to the bartender; it appeared to be made of polished steel, with a crest stamped into it. The sellsword picked it up and inspected it by the candlelight. “I have many more where that came from, though I may not be able to pay you in full until after we have returned home...”

“You _are_ new to this, eh? You won’t be paying me in full until the job is done; that’s how mercenary contracts work.”

“Ah, right. So, will you escort us west?”

The devilish sellsword studied the coin for a moment longer before responding, his eyes gleaming through the slit of his helm. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

The twins broke into wide, thankful smiles. They rose from their seats as the sellsword turned to his pack, unnoticed until now, propped up on the bench beside him. “Woah, settle down. I know you’re eager there, sister, but there’s still papers to write.”

The twins bashfully sat again, the sister blushing furiously. They straightened when the sellsword placed a piece of paper and a fountain pen on the table, facing them. “Read this over. It’s a generic contract that basically says I work for you until you pay me. Daily rates, disclaimers, fun things like that. We’ll change anything that needs changing before I file it.”

The twins carefully pored over the contract, signing where appropriate. It was awfully tedious, but they were finished within a few minutes. The sellsword took the contract and looked it over quickly. “Good. I’ll bring this over to the guildmate. Wait here.”

He stood, and the twins now saw just how large their bodyguard was. He stood head and shoulders above any other man in the longhouse, and nearly twice as broad. They watched him walk over to the bartender, and how the other patrons gave him a wide berth. “So, Veera, what do you think?”

“He certainly is a big man, Tuule. I hope big in other ways, too,” she grinned salaciously. “I just might forget to buy a tent.”

Tuule playfully slapped his sister in the back of the head, both giggling like the drunk youths they resembled. They pulled their hoods up past their faces and finished their drinks. Their new friend returned not a minute after he left.

“Let’s go. We’ll have introductions in the tavern,” he said as he grabbed his pack; it seemed a pathetically small thing hanging on his wide back. He bent over again to reach below the table, and when he straightened he held a massive sword and a small shield. The three filed out of the longhouse, the other patrons giving them plenty of space.

The sellsword led the way through the streets. His weapon clattered quietly against his shield where they hung over his pack. Tuule marveled at it, for it could not rightfully be called a sword; it was massive, thick, heavy, and far too rough. But the sellsword clearly cared for it, judging by the smooth edges gleaming in the torchlit streets.

After a few minutes of plodding through town, they came to a building slightly larger than its neighbors. A handwritten sign that read “humans unwelcome” hung on a post by the threshold. The sellsword climbed the stairs to the door, but turned to the twins before he entered. “Might want to do your eye trick in here, you look a bit too human for the owner’s liking.”

“Humans aren’t welcome in their own city?” Tuule wondered aloud.

He didn’t get an answer as the sellsword simply turned back and pushed open the door. They followed him in and up to the desk where a tired-looking dwarf woman sat. “Oh, Zaz, welcome back.”

“Glad to be back, Marta. I need another room for my lovely clients here,” the sellsword said as he indicated the twins. They pulled down their hoods and smiled at Marta, their teeth far too pointy to be human despite the rest of their appearance. Their eyes were still blue.

“Hmph, shape-changers. Little better than humans, living in with them. Sorry Zaz, it’s a full house tonight.”

“We’re willing to pay,” Tuule, piped up. He held out a handful of coins to Marta.

She waved him off without even glancing down from her high chair. “Like I said, full house.”

Zaz, as the sellsword was apparently known, shrugged. “We’ll manage.” He nodded to Marta then led the twins up to his room on the third floor. It was a room for a lone lodger, and a barebones room at that. One bed, one small table with an oil lantern, one chair, one window with a view of the docks, and not nearly enough room for three people to sleep. With Zaz’s size, they had trouble even squeezing into the room together.

“You two can share the bed,” the sellsword said as he dropped his equipment into the corner of the room without ceremony. He removed his helmet and gloves, setting them onto the table, then pointed at the lantern. The wick ignited. He sat backwards on the chair as the twins got comfortable on the bed. “Now then, introductions. My name is Zazriel. I am a trained and experienced paladin. I’ve worked as a sellsword for some thirty years. I like short walks on the beach and rum cocktails.”

Veera giggled. “Well you certainly look good for your age. I’m Veera. This is my brother Tuule. We’re blue dragons, from the same clutch. We recently reached adulthood, and are setting out on an epic quest to save our bloodline.”

Tuule elbowed his sister in the ribs. Hard.

“Oww... I mean, uh, we’re curious about the legends of Isekaino and want to see it with our own eyes. Yeah.”

Zazriel crooked an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t react.

Tuule cleared his throat. “We left home on a ship owned by our family, but were waylaid by pirates on the way here. My sister and I swam to shore not far from Bendorf.”

“Optimistic,” Zazriel deadpanned.

The trio sat in silence for some time, sizing the other half up. Each were clearly hiding something, some better than others.

Finally, Zazriel broke the silence. “So, this is the plan. After breakfast downstairs we’ll go to the stables and buy horses. We’ll ride to Gusen, some two hundred and sixty miles as the crow flies. It’ll be a fortnight’s riding if all goes smoothly, though in my experience it rarely does. We’ll be pitching camp beside the road most nights. We’ll buy equipment and provisions tomorrow morning before we go to the stables. Fruit, biscuits, smoked fish, a tent, bedrolls, water canteens, so on.”

“Only one tent?” Veera asked, a little too eagerly.

“Yes. We’ll be near the coast the whole way. It gets very cold very quickly at night, and sharing a tent will keep us warm better. Cheaper, too.”

“Appreciate that,” Tuule said, sheepishly. He had winced when he read on the contract that the employer was responsible for all expenses, foreseen or otherwise, for the duration of the contract. He only had a small purse of money from his homeland, having lost all else when their ship went down.

“No more questions? Right, get to sleep. We’ll be up with the sun.”

The twins nodded and laid down, pressed back to back trying not to fall off the bed. Zazriel turned the chair around and sat in it properly, slumped down with his chin on his chest, arms crossed. They slept until sunlight peaked in through the window.

* * *

 

The horses were sturdy and well-bred. All three were experienced equestrians and they made excellent time riding west on the coast road, a view of the sea on their left and an airy forest on their right.

Some hours into the journey, Veera felt she couldn’t endure the silence any longer. “Zazriel, since you’re a paladin, you serve a god, yeah?”

“I do, though not every paladin does.”

“So who’s your patron, then?”

He grumbled to himself for a moment before responding. “She calls herself Murder. She finds it amusing that we have a word that both means ‘kill’ and ‘a group of crows.’ She likes crows.”

“I thought deities were without gender?” Tuule remarked.

“You thought wrong. They just don’t follow the same rules on the Higher Plane. You _have_ heard of succubi, right?”

“Naturally; I’ve lain with succubi... I see your point,” he conceded, sheepishly.

“And I’ve been with incubi! Oh, and an omnibus once, that was fun,” Veera giggled.

Zazriel just shook his head slowly. They rode for a few more minutes before Veera broke the silence again. “What’s Murder like?”

Zazriel’s shoulders stiffened. He took his time responding. “She’s... a god. Both beautiful and frightening, alluring and disgusting. Powerful. Arrogant. Sensual. Cold. But she seems to like me.”

Veera hummed thoughtfully for a moment, then said, “You sound like you’ve met her. Face-to-face, I mean.”

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate.

Veera pouted at his curt responses, but soon asked another question. “Could I meet her?” Zazriel turned in his saddle to stare right into Veera’s eyes. She, a mighty dragon, withered under his gaze. “I... I mean, that, uh, I’ve never met a god, and...”

“And you wouldn’t want to. They might like you.” He turned away.

Silence again, aside from the clip-clop of their cantering horses.

Not much later they pulled off the road to rest the horses and eat lunch. Zazriel pulled a map from his pack and spread it out on a large stone. The twins broke out a bag of dried fruit. The horses grazed and caught their breath. Zazriel waved the twins over, pointing things out on the map as he spoke.

“We’re here, roughly. Some sixty miles west of Bendorf. In a few more hours we’ll ride past Lahrbach. It’s a hamlet on the river that takes their ‘humans only’ policy very seriously, so we won’t even slow for it. The road ends at Lahrbach, so we’ll be rough riding north up the river to the highway, then turn west and carry on. If we push it a bit, we might make it to Capital shortly after nightfall. I’m impressed, you two ride well.”

“Oh hush you flatterer,” Veera said playfully, blushing slightly.

“We used to ride back home. Hunting parties, mounted sports,” Tuule said.

“Hunting, hm?” Zazriel raised an eyebrow. The Dragon Continent was infamous across the rest of Tabenon for slavery, buying and trading and using people taken from the West and East Lands. Dragons are an arrogant race, who believe themselves superior to the other mortal races and act as such; though in fairness, they have the magical and physical power to back up such a belief. “I was something of a hunter myself before I became a paladin. What did you hunt?”

“Rabbits, usually,” Tuule replied, no trace of a lie in his voice. “The parties were pretty small most of the time, maybe four horsemen. Sometimes we’d bring a hound along, but usually we just used falcons.”

“I miss my bird,” Veera pouted.

“Why even ride, or hunt with falcons?”

Tuule and Veera shrugged. “It was fun, and rabbits are good eating. The rabbits down there are much bigger and fatter than the ones we’ve been seeing today, hey, Veera?”  
“Yeah, one big bunny was enough to feed the whole hunting party. The stew is good, but I always liked it when we grilled its legs out on the plains.” She smiled fondly at the memory.

Zazriel grunted in acknowledgement, satisfied. It wasn’t the answer he meant to ask for, but it was enough for now. “Maybe I could give it a shot after the contract’s up. Let’s get back on the road. Take a couple big drinks from your canteens before you mount back up.”

* * *

 

Less than two hours later, they saw the handful of log buildings that made up Lahrbach. They turned off the road, and set out north along the river’s east bank. It was too deep to ford, but the bridge at the highway would save them the effort anyway. Lahrbach soon disappeared from sight as they followed the winding river and the forest drew closer to the bank.

It was slower going than on the road. The horses could find their footing well enough, but the rough ground prevented the trio from moving any faster than a walk. They chatted a bit as they rode. But only a bit.

Around the next bend, Zazriel pulled up short. A man stood in the narrow space between the dense forest and the riverbank, wearing a smile, leather armor, and a sword. He held up a hand in greeting to the trio. “Ho there, travelers. Coming from Lahrbach, are ya?”

“Maybe,” Zazriel’s curt reply rang hollow from inside his helmet. He held out a hand behind him to motion to the twins to stay back and stay silent. “What’s it to you?”

“Ah, see, I live in town, but I got lost while hunting this fine morning. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to lend me your horses and weapons so that I can make it back safely.” He motioned grandly with an arm, and about a dozen other men emerged from the treeline. A few bows were trained on the trio, several swords were drawn. “Oh, and if you would spare a bite of food, too? My men are terribly hungry.”

“Must not have had much luck while hunting, then,” Zazriel deadpanned. He huffed, then dismounted. He motioned for the twins to do the same, which they did with concerned expressions. “Here you go then. Oh, and you wanted my weapons, too?” He said as the man approached with a crooked grin.

“Certainly! Thank-”

He was cut short as Zazriel drew his massive blade and buried it two feet into the man’s shoulder in one swift motion. “Back to back, fists up, save the horses!” He shouted to the twins as he charged the men at the treeline. As he ran he slipped his shield onto his arm, a small kite-shaped thing that left his left hand free. He raised it to block three arrows that flew at him as he ran. “Start praying, brigands!”

Zazriel slammed into them like an ocean wave upon a pile of sand. One slash from his sword split a man shoulder to hip; the blood spray marked two others who recoiled. One stepped towards Zazriel’s left side and swung his sword overhead. Zazriel knocked the strike aside with his shield almost casually, then buried his blade into his chest. Two arrows streaked past his head and he turned to face the archers. He pointed at them with the first two fingers of his left hand and they burst into flames, screaming and flailing.

One swordsman managed to slip inside his guard as he was doing this, and buried a knife into Zazriel’s abdomen. He grunted in pain, but barely flinched as he grabbed the man’s bare head with his left hand. And squeezed. The man screamed in pain for a moment before his head was crushed like an apple underfoot. Zazriel tossed the corpse aside as one would an orange rind.

Two bandits now remained, neither of them archers. They held out poorly-maintained swords with both hands, trembling, not approaching. Zazriel pulled the knife from his side with a small yelp of pain and chucked it aside. He leant on his sword in his right hand as he pressed his left to the wound, blood seeping around his fingers. He took a deep, steadying breath, then muttered something under his breath. His hand glowed with a faint white light, and the bleeding stopped. He straightened, and advanced on the last bandits.

“Wait! Wait! We surrend-” Zazriel cut them off by cutting them down. His sword carved through them like a butcher’s knife through warm butter, and they fell to the earth in pieces.

It was over in a matter of moments. The twins were agape at the carnage he wrought. As he returned to the horses they took an involuntary step back. “Are you two hurt?” They weren’t. “Mount up, there might be more. We should leave.”

And so they did. They rode as fast as they dared all the way to the highway, crossed the bridge, and continued at a gallop for another several minutes. Once they calmed down, they slowed to a walk. The horses were panting. So was Zazriel.

“Are you alright?” Veera asked, fear of him and concern for him both apparent in her voice.

“Just winded.”

“You had a knife in you!”

“And now I don’t.”

Tuule was shaking his head slowly in amazement. “Paladins are nothing to sniff at. Are they all like you up here?”

Zazriel put his hand to his side, and his hand glowed again. “Well, all of them can do this much at least. ‘Close Wounds’ we call it. Stops the bleeding, but it takes something a bit stronger to actually _heal_ the damage. Which I’m doing now.” The glow from his hand went from white to gold, and grew in intensity. Veera had to squint to watch. “Basic healing spell, not sure it even has a name. Taxing to use, but a life-saver.”

He pulled his hand away and readjusted his position in the saddle. He sat more upright, less gingerly than he had, and was breathing easier now. “Alright, better. You two unhurt?”

The twins both nodded, still processing.

Veera spoke up after a few minutes. “Can we stop? I need to relieve myself.”

They did, and Veera dashed into the underbrush. Zazriel checked the horses, making sure they were calming down after the excitement. They were fine; his fire magic had startled them, but otherwise nothing was wrong. Tuule stood at a respectful distance, but clearly was trying to say something. “You seem used to this,” he eventually said, dumbly.

Zazriel nodded. “I told you, I’ve been in this game for a while. Was this your first fight?”

“Yes... I’ve never seen so much blood...”

Zazriel turned away from his horse to see Tuule was trying not to gag at the thought of it. He removed his helmet and gloves, tucking them into the satchel that hung on his back. He placed a large, heavy hand on Tuule’s shoulder. The smaller man flinched and looked up into his face, and something about Zazriel’s eyes calmed him. They had seemed so hard and mischievous, almost malicious back in the Bendorf longhouse. But now, it seemed like Tuule could see the weight of decades of pain and loneliness endured and overcome, and kindness despite all the evil those eyes have seen. Zazriel spoke, and his voice seemed almost gentle without his helmet in the way. “You’re handling it better than I did. We have a long road ahead of us yet, and I will protect you best I can.”

“But you killed...”

Zazriel didn’t move his hand, but Tuule didn’t try to pull away.

“I did. So have you. Those men were no better than the rabbits you hunt back home. They were evil, and we’re likely to encounter worse yet on our journey.”

Tuule nodded at the harsh reality. He shook his head once and put a brave face on. “Right. I won’t hold you back next time.”

“Oh just kiss already!” Veera cried as she approached, rolling her eyes.

Zazriel shrugged and took his hand off Tuule’s shoulder. “Well, if she says so.”

Tuule tilted his head in agreement. “Sounds good to me.”

The two men leaned towards each other, causing Veera to shriek. “No! I was kidding!”

The boys pulled away, bursting out laughing. “Don’t worry, sister, I know you have your sights set on him”

“Tuule!” she pouted before joining their laughter.

Once they had calmed down, Zazriel spoke up. “Alright, it’s about to get dark. We’re another half-day’s ride from Capital if I’m reading the map right. We could carry on for a bit more, or pitch camp while we still have the light. Up to you.”

Tuule nodded, and paused to think before speaking. “Why don’t we camp here for tonight? We’re across the river and by the highway, so it should be pretty safe, right?”

Veera perked up. “Oh, I haven’t been camping since I was a little girl!”

Zazriel nodded. “Alright, I’ll pitch the tent. Tuule, tie the horses to a tree with rope, not their reins. Make sure they can wander a bit but not run off in the night. Veera, gather wood and get a fire going. There’s salted pork in the saddlebags we’ll roast for dinner.”


	2. The "Adventure" Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After beginning their journey together and a close encounter with highwaymen, the trio make camp for the night. Only a short morning ride stands between them and Capital, the birthplace of The Church of the Abounding Pantheon and the largest city in Tabenon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The explicit stuff starts here, and probably won't stop anytime soon. Be thee prepared or turn back whilst you can.

The three set about their roles, and within an hour they had a lovely little campsite a stone’s throw from the road. The night sky looked down upon a cheerful campfire crackling as a skewered slab of pork roasted above it. A tent stood close enough to feel the warmth of the fire and their horses quietly grazed behind it. The three travelers sat around the fire together, trying to make small talk. They huddled close, the evening chill already closing in. The wind blowing in from the sea and over the forest was bitterly cold despite the comfortable day that just ended.

As soon as the pork was eaten, the twins retired to the tent, barely having to duck through the flap to slip inside. It was a large tent, meant for four people or so. Zazriel banked the fire meticulously, then followed them inside.

The twins were nude. Zazriel caught a glimpse of fair-skinned bodies before quickly backing out of the tent, muttering an apology. Veera’s voice followed him out. “Oh come on, don’t be such a prude! Just come to bed!”

Zazriel took a deep breath, let it out slowly, said a quick silent prayer to Murder, then went back inside. Tuule was now bundled up in his bedroll, already trying to fight off the cold. Veera was not; rather, she was lying atop Zazriel’s oversized bedroll, propped up on one elbow. She flashed a brilliant, alarmingly toothy smile when he entered. “Hello,” she purred, reaching out her free hand towards him.

Zazriel sighed, though truly he wasn’t as irritated as he put on. No man could be. He pulled his boots off and placed them next to his equipment where it lay at the edge of the tent. He didn’t wear trousers under his armored tunic, so as he loosened it and pulled it up over his head, his manhood hung freely for Veera to see. She let out an appreciative “ooh” as he did so. “Oh my, Zazzy, do all paladins have three legs?”

“Very funny. Don’t call me that,” he grumbled as he dumped his tunic without ceremony onto his boots. Clad in only a tight wool undershirt, he moved to his bedroll. “Move over.”

Veera slid to the side as he settled down next to her, their faces mere inches from each other. She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the muscle through the thin shirt. Her hand slid downwards, slowly. He let her, though he couldn’t resist quipping, “This is going on your tab, by the way.”

She grinned mischievously at him as she wrapped a silky smooth hand around the base of his manhood. “Worth it.”

He hardened, and his dick rose sideways, lying as they were. It pushed in between Veera’s legs; she cooed as she began to slowly rub it with her thighs. “Wow, Zaz, you really are hung like a horse. I mean, literally. What kind of hybrid _are_ you?”

Not exactly dirty talk, but her breathy voice made it work for him. His hands snaked around Veera’s waist. “For all it matters, I’m half stallion. Ready for a ride?”

Tuule groaned, and wrapped his arms around his head tighter.

Veera giggled. “Saddle up!”

Zazriel rolled onto his back, holding tight to Veera’s hips so she came with him, straddling his midriff, the crown of his equine dick touching her between the shoulder blades. She took a moment to settle and plant her hands on his chest, then slid her ass up along his shaft, then back down. Up and down, his hands guiding her hips. Her slit was wet with arousal, her breath ragged.

He stopped, holding her down against his pelvis. She moaned in protest, but he spoke, concern overriding his arousal for a moment. “You won’t be able to take it.”

“But I want it!” she begged, trying to lift her hips against his grasp. After a few jerks, he relented.

“Alright. Sit still for a tick,” he took his right hand off her hip and pressed his pointer finger against her skin, just below her bellybutton, and began muttering an incantation under his breath. She gasped as he did. When he pulled his hand away, she looked down to see a tattoo had appeared. It looked like a wide, round “x” that pulsed with a pale pink glow. “This is a gift from Murder; it’ll let you take me whole.”

“Whole?” she choked, still burning with lust but suddenly a little apprehensive.

He wrapped both hands around her waist, his fingers touching their opposites so slender a waist was it, and lifted her up. He held her so her slit hung above his glans, her toes barely touching the tent floor. He paused, and waited. She stared down at his dick, at the glyph, at Zazriel’s face. She began to squirm in his grasp. Her hands gripped his forearms, trying to find leverage to drop herself onto his dick. Quiet moans of aroused desperation escaped her lips. She looked him in the eyes. “Please!”

He pulled her down slowly, ever so slowly. The flared head of his cock spread her folds wide, and she gasped, then cried out in pleasure. He pulled her down his shaft slowly, relishing her panting, yelping, gasping. His gaze traced her face flush with lust, her breasts with little pink nipples, her skin slightly slick with sweat, her stomach in which he could see the bulge of his dick inside her. He pulled her hips down another couple inches, eliciting another shriek of pleasure. Her head lolled back as she gasped for breath.

He held her there, the bulge in her stomach just reaching her bellybutton, and caught his own breath. Though his position was the easier one, the waves of lust and pleasure were almost too much to bear, and holding her up at such an awkward angle wasn’t easy. Her feet were planted on the floor now, so he slid his hands up over her stomach to her breasts and grasped them tightly. She gasped as he began kneading them, squeezing gently, pinching her nipples. She released his forearms, leaving white marks where she had held on. One hand went down to rub her clit, and the other grabbed Zazriel’s wrist. She pulled his hand up to her throat, and he clenched ever so gingerly. She squeezed his wrist, and he clenched harder. She patted the back of his hand and began to fondle the breast he had released, writhing slightly for all the stimulation. After another minute of this, Zazriel felt her walls clench his manhood as she climaxed. Liquid arousal ran down Zaz’s shaft in streams. Her legs went limp; only Zaz’s grip on her throat prevented her from tumbling to the floor.

She didn’t stop fondling herself. “More,” she rasped.

He took his hand off her breast and placed it on the small of her back, then used the hand around her neck to push her down further. Her cry of pleasure was choked out by Zaz’s grip. Her jaw hung slack, her tongue lolling out, drooling slightly onto his wrist. “More.”

He pulled her down another few inches, the bulge of his dick now disappearing behind her sternum. The strangeness of the moment was lost on Veera, who was cross-eyed with pleasure. She could only silently mouth _more_.

Zazriel lessened his grasp on her throat, and she took a deep breath. “Halfway there,” he purred deviously. “Are you _sure_ you want more?”

She nodded, panting and drooling like a bitch in heat. She found some strength in her legs and began to move her hips forward and back, spurring him on. Both of her hands grasped the wrist in front of her neck as she silently begged him for more. He grinned, appearing in this moment truly devilish. He gripped her neck tightly, and pushed her all the way down. Her howl of pleasure barely escaped his grasp, and he felt her climax again, squeezing his entire length. She began to move her hips to coax even more stimulation out of the moment. He felt drool drip onto his wrist and her cum run down his pelvis. His grin turned wicked as he took his free hand and began to spank her ass. It was an awkward angle, but her pathetic yelps were more than worth it. He squeezed her throat even tighter, and she orgasmed again, then went limp. He released her throat, and her head slumped forward as she gasped for breath.

She came to her senses some moments later to feel Zaz tenderly running his hands up and down her sides, and his dick throbbing inside her. She could feel it reaching all the way up through to her collarbone. Every throb sent a jolt of pleasure through her whole body. She looked down at herself to see the bulge Zazriel made inside her; it seemed like her body had turned to rubber. There was no pain, only breathtaking pleasure. She ran her hands down the bulge, still struggling to wrap her head around what had happened, feeling sparks of pleasure as her fingers danced down her belly.

“Speechless at last?” Zazriel teased.

She tried to retort, but the head of his dick was pushing on her windpipe, and she struggled to get words out. “Fuck... you...”

“If you insist.” He gripped her waist, and lifted her up and off. She inhaled deeply while she could. Her body felt impossibly empty, but not for long. Barely had she taken a breath when Zazriel pulled her back down, all the way to the hilt of his equine cock. Veera threw her head back and screamed in pleasure. He didn’t stop this time; she felt herself rising and falling as Zaz manhandled her like a toy, his dick and strange magic flooding her mind with lust and bliss. She lost all sense of herself, overwhelmed by the pleasure, howling like a beast.

He slammed her down again, and stopped. He leaned in next to her; his hot breath tickled and stimulated the soft skin around her ear, but not nearly as much as the words he spoke. “I want to fill you up.”

“Do it,” she whimpered. That was all the encouragement Zaz needed. He rose to his feet, Veera still impaled on his dick. He held her to his chest as he ducked out of the tent and into the trees. He pinned her against a wide trunk by the throat with one hand, the bark scratching her sending dozens of shocks of pleasure through her back; she gasped and grabbed at his wrist with both hands. Zaz’s other hand held up her ass to give him a better angle as he pulled out and thrusted into her. Every time he filled her she felt her breath squeezed out of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in, encouraging him to reach deeper, pound faster. Her legs trembled as she climaxed again.

As she tightened around his shaft this time, he came. He slammed his dick all the way in and held it there as his spunk poured into Veera’s womb. She felt it flow, and flow, and flow. She was practically blind with pleasure, but felt her stomach bloat from the pressure of Zaz’s inhuman virility.

His cock began to soften and shrink back into its sheath. His cum poured out of Veera’s abused cunt like an uncorked barrel, staining the forest floor white. He continued to hold her against the tree until he pulled out, then set her gently down onto her knees. She gasped for breath as he finally released her throat.

“Clean up this mess,” he commanded, holding her by the hair so his softening dick was pressed against her face. She didn’t even try to resist, and opened wide. It was a much more manageable size now that Zaz had come, but still far too large for her mouth. She struggled to do more than wrap her lips around his glans, but doggedly tried to swallow his length.

Zaz helped. He tightened his grip on her hair and pulled her into his crotch. She gagged, but began sucking, swallowing the sexual fluids coating his dick. After several moments, he pulled her off. She breathed deep, looking up at him with relief that it was over. “Well done, lover,” he rumbled. She managed a dumb smile, and blew a kiss up at him.

“Alright, c’mon let’s get you to bed.” He gently picked her up with both arms and princess-carried her back into the tent. She babbled quietly as he laid her gently onto his bedroll. Before he laid down, he grabbed her bedroll to use as a heavy blanket for the two of them. They laid together, his arms wrapped delicately around her. She hummed contentedly as she nuzzled into his chest and he whispered sweet nothings into her ear as they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 

The trio were slow to rise the next morning. Zazriel and Veera took a minute to untangle themselves, and Tuule shot them an irritated look from his bedroll. “That’s a new record for volume I think, dear sister.”

She threw her pillow at him.

They dressed, and began to break camp. Veera warmed some buttered bread over the coals of last night’s fire while Tuule helped Zazriel pack up the tent and saddle the horses. Apart from Tuule being grumpy over his disturbed sleep, the party was in bright spirit as they mounted up and set off. It was a beautiful day, hardly a cloud in the sky as the sun beamed down on the highway. They chatted affably as they rode west towards Capital.

“So, Veera, you said something interesting last night,” Zazriel said.

“Both of you said several interesting things last night,” Tuule quipped.

“Hush, you. What was it, Zazzy?”

“I’m charging you a gold piece for every time you call me that from now own. You said I was hung like a horse, and that got me wondering how exactly you knew that.”

Veera shrugged and looked away, her cheeks flushed. “It gets boring back home, sometimes, and you try to find stuff to do. We have beastfolk slaves, and some of them were horsefolk, and I had a roll in the hay with them. Happy?”

“Probably your first time actually taking it like that, eh?”

“Yep, that was a first,” she said sheepishly, adjusting her weight in the saddle. “I think I’m still leaking a bit...”

“For the love of the Firstborn please change the subject,” Tuule pleaded in mock desperation. “We have another four long hours of riding I can’t listen to you two lovebirds the whole way.”

The “lovebirds” laughed. “So then what _should_ we talk about, dear brother?”

Tuule’s face turned serious. “In truth, our funds. I didn’t exactly have a lot of money back when we hired you, and stocking up for the trip to Gusen ate up a lot of my purse. I suppose I should say _our_ purse, but when it’s this empty-” he held up his purse and shook it for emphasis “-it doesn’t matter so much. We’ll need to make some money in Capital if we are to make it all the way to the coast, and especially to charter passage across the Center.”

Zazriel and Veera lost their chipper mood as the weight of Tuule’s concerns sank into them. “It’s a point well made, Tuule,” Zazriel said. “I have some money on me, but probably even less than you do. Do we have enough for a room tonight, at least?”

“I think I have about twelve gold pieces’ worth, if Bendorf was a fair point of reference.”

“Shice,” Zazriel swore quietly. “Yeah, we won’t be able to afford provisions to get to Gusen on that, let alone a ship across the Center. Right, we’ll find an inn once we reach Capital, probably a dive in a non-human neighborhood. Shouldn’t cost more than a couple silver pieces a night. We’ll go to the longhouse, find something on the job board that pays well and quickly. Good?”

Tuule nodded and Veera bit her lip thoughtfully. They rode on in silence for some time, each mulling over the situation in their own way.

They stopped once more before the final leg to Capital. A small clearing on the side of the highway gave them a nice spot to rest and feed the horses. They sat roughly in a circle and passed around some food. A light lunch seemed to put some cheer into them, and soon they were talking freely again.

“Hey Zaz, what was that brand you put on me?” Veera asked after a pause, blushing slightly.

“You _branded_ my sister?”

“Of course not. It’s not a brand, but a glyph granted me by Murder. It applies a few basic paladin-esque spells to the person wearing it.”

“Like?” Tuule prodded.

“Like a continuous healing spell, a toughness spell, a softening spell. Murder’s personal touch transforms pain into pleasure and enhances the libido of the branded.”

“Yeah it was lovely, but why is it still on me?” Veera asked, flipping up the front of her cloak. She wore nothing underneath, like Tuule, and she flushed as the boys scrutinized her mons. The glyph was still there, now black. “I thought it’d go away when we were sleeping.”

Zazriel’s brow furrowed in confusion. “It should have... Come here, let me see it.”

She moved closer and let Zazriel inspect his glyph up close, blushing furiously as he poked at the sensitive skin around it for a moment. “Are you quite finished?”

“Yeah,” he replied calmly. She pulled the cloak down and shuffled backwards a bit. “It’s inert, no magic left in it. It was my first time casting it on a dragon, so maybe it’ll simply take some more time to fade.”

“Let’s hope so,” Tuule said, rising to his feat. “Let’s get moving. I want to be in Capital before we even have to worry about losing the light.”

Back on the road, they continued their banter by trying to learn more about each other. Tuule asked, “So how is it that you able to cast spells so freely? I thought you had to recite an incantation or do a little dance, but you can set things alight just by pointing?”

“Mm, right. So, you two are dragons, surely you can cast spells?”

“Yeah,” Veera responded. “That’s how I got the fire started last night.”

“Sure, and to do so you had to speak a few short words? In my time training in monasteries all over the East Land, I learned that speaking the incantation is unnecessary. It’s simply to help the caster focus their will, picture in their mind what they want to happen. Ritual dances and chants serve the same purpose. The pointing and such motions I make are my take on the practice.”

“Wait... So if I think really hard, I can cast spells without the prayers and stuff?”

“You do it all the time. Most non-humans do, in truth.” The twins cocked their heads curiously at that. “You both change your shape freely, or near-as-makes-no-difference, correct? Do you have to speak a spell to change your eyes? Your teeth? Your body?”

The twins went silent as they pondered this, considering the possibilities this revelation presented.

“It’s not easy, took me months to manage to simply light a candle without reciting the incantation. But time is the one thing you have plenty of in a monastery,” Zazriel said with a humorless chuckle.

“You don’t have any fond memories of that time?”

Zazriel’s face hardened. “No. I spent all my youth studying as an acolyte monk. Hybrids are not uncommon in such places, but I especially was... a freak in their eyes. A monster. And they treated me as such. One monastery to the north of the Black Peaks tried to force me to file off my horns. There was worse. I endured, overcame, surpassed, then left. Took all their knowledge with me, and use it selfishly. About the greatest revenge I can impart.”

The twins regarded him with pity as he spun his tale. They rode abreast, with the sorrowful paladin in the middle. He looked up from his reverie when he felt a hand on each of his arms. The twins silently conveyed their sympathy, looking up at him. He nodded thanks, then donned his helmet, shaking off their hands. His face was hidden once again, but Veera was certain she could see tears fall from behind the steel mask.

* * *

 

The westbound highway eventually came out of the forest, and they were greeted with rolling hills covered in golden-brown grass. To their right, they could just make out the break in the horizon that was Capital. The highway continued west towards the sea for a few miles before looping lazily northward to approach the city from the southwest, as if the roadbuilders intended to reach the shore but changed their minds.

Capital is the largest, most populous city in the East Land, and it shows. Generations ago, it was a roughly-circular walled city about a mile wide built near the southern shore of a wide, slow river. That wasn’t the sight that greeted the traveling trio today, however. The old wall still stood proud, if poorly-maintained. But to reach it, they had to ride through a mile of sprawling shanty town lining the highway. It seemed to be a craft district, mostly pottery and textiles. Acres of cotton and sheep farms spread out from the outskirts, which likely fed the artisans around here.

It was obviously a human-only district, however. Humans all colors and sizes, but only humans. A few beastfolk could be seen, but being used as beasts of burden or worse. Despite the twins’ human appearance and Zazriel’s human-ish shape under his armor, they drew curious or suspicious, even hostile looks as they rode towards the city’s west gate.

As they approached the wall, Zazriel pulled up and dismounted, motioning for the twins to do the same. “Not allowed to ride through Capital proper; this’ll be a good first impression to the guards if nothing else.”

They walked up to the gate, their shadows lengthening before them. Zazriel held up an arm in greeting to the gate guards as they drew close. The guard held up his hand in a command to halt. “State your business within the proper.”

“Visiting the longhouse to find a mercenary contract. Visiting the temple to pay my respects,” Zazriel said as he fished a pendant out from below his collar. A symbol of the Church hung from a leather cord. The guard leaned in to inspect it briefly, then nodded and waved them inside.

Once out of earshot, Tuule asked, “Are we really going to the temple?”

“Not unless you want to.” The big paladin shrugged. “Capital is the home of the Church, saying something like that and flashing their symbol is an easy in. First stop is actually the market square. It’s been awhile since I’ve crossed the Center, need to ask around about what kind of fees we should expect.”

They made their way deeper into the Capital proper, leading their horses by the reins. The road was busy, but not crowded. People inside the walls were a lot less suspicious of these newcomers than the ones living on the outskirts were. It wasn’t long before the road opened up into a wide market square, and the volume increased tenfold. The twins barely resisted the urge to cover their ears as they followed Zazriel to the nearest dark-skinned human merchant. He broke into a wide, bright smile as the travelers approached. “Welcome, my friends! See something you like? I’ll do a good price just for you!”

“Just browsing for the moment,” Zazriel replied as he handed the reins of his horse to Tuule. He looked over the merchant’s stall; dozens of small trinkets were laid out on a table, dozens more hung from the wooden frame holding up a cloth shade. There was a tiny chess set, a too-small water skin, hand fans, plenty of useless baubles, and beautiful necklaces spun from colored glass. “Say, friend, have you crossed the Center lately? We are planning a trip to Conte, and I thought I’d ask about the crossing.”

“Why yes! I crossed perhaps two weeks ago to bring you beautiful wares from far-off Navifactiva! It was a nice crossing, but you better hurry before the season turns. Perhaps buy one of these-” he held up a handsome leather pouch “-to carry your travel foodstuff in?”

“We’re well equipped already, thanks. How much for passage across the Center these days? It’s been awhile since I’ve been to Gusen.” Zazriel picked up a glass paperweight and turned it over in his hands, admiring the etching that caught the fading sunlight.

“Just skipping across cost me 90 gold pieces, though I had my merchant’s discount. You have a very good eye sir, thinking of buying?”

“Yes, but not this one,” Zazriel replied as he set it down gently. “But I would like something for my lovers, here. This glasswork is impressive.”

Tuule almost sputtered in protest, but stopped himself and began to dutifully study his boot laces. Veera blushed slightly and looked away with theatrical nonchalance. He looked the twins up and down, then shot a knowing smile up at Zazriel. “Like I said, sir, you have very good taste. Here, these necklaces were spun by the finest glass smiths back home. The cord is woven from silk, and the glass beads are handcrafted with fine pigments.”

He took one from the merchant and turned it over in his hands. The merchant was hardly embellishing, this was a magnificent piece of craftsmanship. The pigments melted into the glass beads twisted within, catching the light and sparkling. “These are beautiful. Do you have blue? I’ll take two.”

He haggled the merchant down a bit, but soon settled on a fair price and paid out of his own pocket. Before leaving, Zazriel took a moment to loop the necklaces around each twin’s neck. The beads jingled quietly, surprisingly musical as they clinked against each other. Tuule played along begrudgingly; Veera gazed affectionately at Zaz as he carefully tied the silk string behind her. They could hear the merchant mutter, “Very fine taste. Mmm.”

They ignored him; Zazriel took the reins of his horse back from Tuule and lead the little troupe towards the longhouse. Tuule spoke up once they were out of earshot, “Are all Westerners like that?”

“Only the ones trying to sell something. Well, at least we have a rough estimate of the crossing fee. It’s gone up since I was over there last. I desperately hope there’s something good on the job board.”

In a few minutes, they reached the longhouse, just a bit further down the main road from the market square. They hitched their horses to the bits outside before entering. The Capital longhouse was huge, at least thrice the size of the longhouse back in Bendorf; the twins couldn’t even see the back wall when they walked through the wide entrance. They trailed behind Zazriel as he made a beeline for the job board. It was like a wall standing alone, not forming a corner. It was made up of soft wooden slats that had had many a nail hammered into and pulled out of it. Five sheets of paper with lines of writing and a wax seal hung on it now.

“Let’s see, not much,” he mused, disappointed. “Errand boy, pest control... This looks interesting.”

He grabbed one of the papers off the board and moved to make it easier for the twins to read it as well.

“A coven of barbaric vampires has been abducting citizens of Schoberbach in the night. Their settlement is assumed to be in the woods to the east of the village. Veia herself cannot move to destroy the coven, as the woods are Tamaa territory. The task is to completely destroy the coven; no survivors, for the chance exists that the kidnapped citizens have been brainwashed into serving them. It is also requested, though not required, that the coven’s settlement be destroyed as well. The reward shall be two platinum pieces, to be delivered upon your successful return, as facilitated by the guild master at the Capital longhouse,” Zazriel read aloud. He looked at each of the twins, who shrugged. “No complaints? This won’t be easy.”

“They said two platinum pieces, I assume that’s a lot of money,” Tuule said simply.

“Yeah, that’d get us across the Center all right. You know you both will have to fight, and kill for this?”

Tuule scoffed. “Humans are one thing. But barbarians? Especially vampires? They’re not people, no better than rabbits.”

If Zazriel was disturbed by Tuule’s shift in attitude, he didn’t show it. He only nodded, and led them to where the guild master was playing the part of the longhouse barkeep. A relatively tall human woman, pale skin and dark hair, and intelligent eyes that sparkled despite noticeable crow’s feet at their corners. She looked up at their approach, and broke into a wide grin when she saw Zazriel. “Zaz, my boy it has been a long time!”

“It sure has, Angela. I’m here about this notice,” he said warmly as he laid it down on the counter. “We’re gonna pick it up, anything extra we should know of?”

Angela put aside the beerstein she had been wiping down, and concern filled her face when she saw exactly which notice he had chosen. “Just the three of you? You’re a tough bastard, but this is bigger than even what you’re used to. Several people disappear every night, this won’t be a small coven.”

“We’ll be fine. These two are tougher than they look.” The twins grinned at that. “We’ll be heading out tomorrow morning, will everything be in order on time?”

“Ya, I’ve already got the reward in the safe. I won’t require you bring their heads back or anything, I know I can trust your word.”

“Thanks. We’ll be heading out then.” Zazriel turned away with a friendly wave, the twins following suit.

They led their horses through the rest of the city proper and out the east gate. The sun had fully set by now, and after a day of travel and errands around town they were ready for bed. It didn’t take long to find a comfortable inn, though they only had one room available. “There are four beds, it’s intended for small traveling parties,” the slightly nervous young clerk assured them.

“Oh, we only need one,” Veera replied with a coy wink. Zazriel just rolled his eyes and took the key while Tuule paid the night’s rent.

To be fair to the clerk, it was a nice room. The four beds were tightly spaced, two on opposite walls, but there was enough space to move about the room comfortably even with a dresser standing at the foot of each bed. Their horses’ saddlebags were dumped onto the spare bed, then they began settling down, removing equipment and clothes and putting them away in the drawers.

“Huh, she wasn’t kidding. _Neither_ of you wear anything besides that cloak?” Zazriel asked, bemused.

“We have boots!” Veera said in mock indignation.

“And a purse!” Tuule matched his sister’s tone.

“And necklaces!”

They laughed as the twins crawled into their beds, but didn’t lie down for sleep quite yet. Veera sat up, her eyes wandering over Zazriel’s figure as he undressed. Red skin, black horns, towering build, countless scars along his arms, equine cock retracted into a sheath. She lingered on that last detail. “Hey, you never answered my question. What are you?”

He didn’t answer as he deliberately stripped down to his woolen undershirt and crawled into bed, heaving a sigh of contentment at being on a real mattress again. “A hybrid.”

“Clearly,” Veera rolled her eyes. She continued to look him in the eyes expectantly. After a bit, he relented.

“My mother was human, my father was an angel, I think.” He paused. “It wasn’t a... consensual union. I guess the Church didn’t do a good job that year.”

The twins were silent; they could clearly read the discomfort in his face.

“My mother’s village was wiped off the map. Most killed for sport by a group of angels, the rest used as... playthings. I learned all this long after my mother died in childbirth, in a nearby monastery.”

“Zaz, you can stop...” Veera said carefully, gently.

“That’s all there is. You know the rest.” He paused, then a moment later shook himself. “Anyway, there lies the sordid tale of my origins. Now, since we’re sharing, why are you two so determined to travel clear across Tabenon, for what could well be a myth?”

The twins shared a look, and a nod. Tuule spoke seriously, levelly. “The dragons are at war. We are the only Blues of our generation. Blue was never a large clan, and the war is threatening our blood with annihilation. It has fallen to the two of us to reproduce and save our bloodline. We can’t breed with humans; that only births hybrids. Wonderful soldiers and servants, but not dragons. Beastfolk cannot conceive at all, nor can the slaves of other races we have. Our hope is that a continent of nephilim--fertile, promiscuous nephilim--holds breeders for us both, or even just one of us.”

“That is quite the thing,” Zazriel said, with sympathy neither dragon truly expected of him. “And a desperate hope. I suppose the war is why you’re traveling in secrecy?”

Tuule nodded. “If the reds or the whites or, gods save us, the blacks found out we were traveling across the mainland, they’d hire assassins by the score to hunt us down. The blacks would probably do it themselves.”

“They won’t storm your home and find you missing regardless?”

“The war’s at a bit of an impasse lately. Dragons rarely do any fighting themselves; in terms of hybrid soldiers, we’re actually a little bit stronger than the other families. We’re the only color to train beastfolk to fight as well, so our armies are bigger than theirs even if our territory is small. But it won’t last. Sooner or later, the other dragons will grow impatient and take to the battlefield, and then our beastfolk advantage won’t matter. Wheat under a scythe. We need dragons.”

“More noble an objective than I thought. Hear this, I swear on Murder’s holy hand, I will take you to Isekaino, and offer all aid that I can. Payment can wait.”

Despite the dire words hanging in the air, the twins managed small smiles. “Well,” Veera said demurely, “it’d _help_ if you would warm my bed.”

Zazriel rolled his eyes and chuckled, though it sounded almost like a growl; he rose from his bed and padded over to Veera’s. When she pulled the covers aside with a shy grin, he saw that his glyph still had not faded from her body. “I could reactivate that,” he said as he settled next to Veera and pulled the covers over them both.

“Please don’t, they’ll throw us out if she screams the house down,” Tuule said with a wry chuckle.

“Please do,” Veera said breathily. “Just, uh, Silence me or something...”

He did, and he did. Veera tried to say something further, but no words left her mouth. She nodded, satisfied, then draped a smooth leg over Zaz. He paused before making a move. “Your whole quest is to get knocked up by a nephilim, yes?”

She nodded but Tuule groaned. “Don’t say it like that, you rob our quest of all dignity.”

“Go to sleep, oh dignified one,” Zazriel said as he waggled his fingers at the male dragon’s back. He began snoring almost immediately.

“Right, he won’t be stirring for another six hours at least. Where were we?” Veera was already stroking his cock to its full length, fondling his fist-sized balls and making kissy faces up at him.

“Slow down, I had a follow up question.” She didn’t slow her teasing. “That glyph also seals my seed, makes it impotent. I’ll need to erase it and apply a new one, and one to myself first. It will take a few moments, and it will hurt.”

She nodded slowly and pulled away. Her enticing lips parted to ask a question, but then remembered the silence spell and closed her mouth sheepishly. She simply repositioned so he could touch her mark more easily easily.

“This is the painful part. It will hurt for a moment, then I will nullify the pain and heal any damage. Okay?”

She nodded, and he laid his hand on his glyph. Veera threw her head back and screamed noiselessly as his hand sizzled against her skin. It was only a moment as promised, but a painful one nonetheless. The pain faded quickly as Zazriel numbed it and poured healing power through his touch.

“Are you alright?” He asked with genuine concern in his voice as he massaged the sore spot. She nodded. Zazriel gently pulled his hand away and Veera saw that his mark had changed, if slightly. It was more curly than before, larger, and more attractive in her mind.

“Now, for mine,” he said and reached down between his legs. He took the first two fingers of his left hand and pressed one to each testicle. He grunted as glyphs spread from them, and when he was done Veera marveled at a glowing gold band wrapped around each. “We can’t do anything wild tonight, but I can give you a load before we sleep.”

She grinned ear to ear and nodded eagerly. They shuffled a bit so they were lying on their sides, chest to chest. “No beginner’s lessons this time,” Zaz said as he worked the head of his cock into Veera’s slit once again. Her mouth opened wide as she screamed with pleasure without making a sound. Zazriel didn’t pause this time, he simply pushed his entire length into Veera as she squirmed and convulsed in his embrace. She bit down onto his shoulder as she came for the first time tonight; he grunted, then gave her ass a few slaps as payback.

Her hips rolled forward and back, her juices dripped onto the bedsheets, she worked her hands up under his shirt and raked her fingernails along Zaz’s back. His chest rumbled with a low chuckle as he watched her writhe, driven by lust. She managed to build a rhythm, pulling herself a few inches off then pushing herself back down, Zaz’s glyphs multiplying the pleasure so even this small movement was mind-melting.

Veera climaxed once more and the tightening of her cunt sent Zaz over the edge. He filled her with his cum, and her belly swelled like last time. Veera’s eyes crossed at the sensation, her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she pushed against her lover a few more times before her limbs went entirely limp. Then she felt Zazriel’s large hand cover her face, and sleep took her.


	3. Honest Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio, strapped for funds, have taken on a contract to wipe out a group of vampires. After a night in an inn just outside Capital's walls, they prepare to ride out to the village of Schoberbach, where the barbarian vampires are making their presence known.

When Veera woke up, she groaned as she tried to move. Her stomach was still bloated for the weight of Zazriel’s seed, even though he was already getting dressed across the room. She felt for her slit and found it plugged with... something. “Why this?” she grumbled as she glared at Zazriel’s back.

“We can’t just dump it on the floor,” he replied, knotting his belt before turning towards her. Veera couldn’t decide if he was being smug or not. She reached out a hand, and he came over to help her out of bed. Another groan escaped her as his cum shifted inside her. “Let’s go to the loo, their plumbing is pretty good. Tuule’s showering now.”

He helped her to the communal washroom, checking to be sure she wasn’t seen in such a uniquely compromising position. Several curtained shower stalls were occupied, but the room was otherwise empty. She started a shower, then Zaz poked her labia and the seal broke. His cum poured down her legs and washed down the drain as she breathed an aroused sigh of relief. “Alright now shoo, a lady is bathing.”

He went back to the room and grabbed her clothes from beside her bed, then brought them back before she had finished. Before leaving, he reached through the curtain and pinched her, only to feel her hand slap his away as she yelped. They laughed, and Zazriel encouraged her to finish soon before returning to their room.

He slung his bag and weapon over his shoulder then grabbed as many saddlebags as he could carry. The twins soon joined him and helped, each carrying more than one would expect from their lithe builds.

Within an hour they were riding northeast up the road. They would follow it through Wyhweiler to Schoberbach, where they planned to get more detailed information about the vampire coven before riding east into the forest to hunt them down.

They chatted a bit, but the idea of fighting vampires put a damper on the mood. They were mostly quiet for the two hour ride to Wyhweiler. A wide stone bridge spanned the river where the main road cut through the center of town. The trio were largely ignored as the rode through, though a vendor tried to sell them some fresh fish, caught in the river only hours ago.

The road got noticeably rougher once they were out the north side of town, probably because this stretch didn’t directly connect to Capital, a cynical observer would conclude--perhaps not incorrectly. Instead of the paving stones they had been riding on until now, the road could barely be called such; it seemed more like an unusually-wide game trial than a proper road. The trio slowed from a canter to a walk, taking care that their horses would not be injured by stumbling in the deep ruts and potholes.

It was already midday by the time the party reached Schoberbach. They easily found the longhouse, for it was the largest building in the little farming village. Inside, though, it was unnervingly quiet. Less than a dozen patrons sat scattered about, quietly eating a meal or nursing a tankard. Zazriel drew a few curious glances, fully clad in armor as he was, his face hidden by his helmet as ever, but that was the extent of the welcome they received. The waitress behind the bar barely acknowledged the trio when they ordered lunch and took a seat at a round table. It took a little longer than expected, but soon enough the waitress brought them each a platter of food; freshly-grilled sides of beef, large loaves of bread, vegetables probably picked only this morning, wedges of deliciously creamy cheese. The trio dug in with gusto.

Partway into their meal, Zazriel waved over the waitress again. He drew the faceplate of his helmet down before she was close enough to make out his inhuman features in the dim light. “This is delicious, thank you, but I wanted to ask you a few things,” he said as he motioned to the free seat at the table. The girl hesitated, looked around the longhouse then sat when she realized nobody really needed service. “See, we’re mercenaries. We heard you folks have a vampire problem and we’re here to solve it.”

She winced when Zazriel said “vampire” but her eyes brightened when he was finished speaking. “You mean it?”

“Absolutely!” Veera chimed in. Her smile was radiant, even if a few specks of food were stuck around her mouth. The waitress looked like she was about to break out into grateful tears as she looked between the faces of the party.

Zazriel’s heavy voice grounded her. “But we need all the information we can get. Does anyone know how many there are? Where their camp is? So on?”

“Yeah, let me grab my boss,” she said as she jumped to her feet, and practically sprinted to the kitchen. Less than a minute later, a grizzled man emerged from the back and made his way to the trio’s table, taking the seat the waitress had just vacated.

He was an older man; a dark beard shot with white grew from a face reddened by the heat of a kitchen fire. His voice rasped slightly as he introduced himself. “Gunter, closest thing Schoberbach has to a mayor. Elena says you’re here for the vampires.”

“That we are. What should we know before we head east? The notice wasn’t very detailed.”

“Today you mean?”

“Ideally.”

“That’s... I... I can tell you the village would be... well, ‘thankful’ is an understatement if you do. Every night for three weeks, we’ve been missing people in the morning. Sometimes as many as four in a night. A few hunters managed to follow their tracks into the forest, and they found where the vampires made camp. I have their map here, actually,” he said as he pulled a roll of paper from a pocket on his apron and spread it on the table. It was a map of Schoberbach and the area; Capital was just at the south-west corner. A rough X was marked in charcoal to the east of the village, with two reference landmarks noted nearby. Zazriel nodded appreciatively.

“You haven’t been posting guards?” Tuule asked, only a little condescendingly.

“Ya, we have. They just vanish. Leave their torches and swords behind. No blood, no trace of a fight.”

Zazriel nodded, as if that answered a question he was about to ask. “Did the scouts report anything specific or unusual? Numbers, clothing, the shape of the tents?”

“They said at least a dozen vampire women, only women, wearing hides. No more than two dozen though. Some forty young men and a handful of girls, most from our village; some in cages, some walking around like they was sleepwalking. Camp’s against a cliff, in front of a cave. Tents are bushcraft. Clearing in front of the cliff’s a good bowshot across. Dense forest all ‘round. That’s all I heard.”

“That’s more than I was expecting, thank you.” Zazriel nodded to the twins, and they stood to leave. “We’ll be back sometime in the night, leave a lit torch out front the inn if you would.”

Gunter wished them luck as they walked out, drawing stares from some of the other patrons who had overheard.

The trio heard excited voices rise behind them as they mounted their horses. They turned to see several, a dozen, a score of locals hurrying up to them, mostly women, with their waitress Elena at the front. They begged the mercenaries to save their son, their brother, their betrothed, their husband.

Though the pleading felt overwhelming at first, the villagers soon calmed down a bit and happily helped the trio prepare. Their horses were stabled and watered, their traveling provisions replenished and stored safely, and the twins were gifted well-fitted knapsacks and a short sword each.

When they left Schoberbach about an hour later, a group of young women saw them off, waving from the edge of town. The trio took very little with them: light packs and their weapons. Zazriel began to talk shop with the twins as they walked through a wheat field. “What do you know of vampires?”

“Only what’s in books,” Tuule replied, almost dismissively. “Undead, drink blood, nocturnal, repulsed by garlic, wooden stake through the heart kills them. Everyone knows at least that much.”

“All wrong... Well, mostly wrong.”

“Then enlighten us, oh knowledgeable one.”

“Firstly, a stake through the heart kills just about anyone, smartass. Vampires are like humans, but _more_ . More sensitive, more physically apt, more attractive, more terrifying. They sleep through the day because the sun hurts their sensitive skin and eyes. Garlic doesn’t actually do anything extraordinary to them, they simply find it much more pungent than you or I do. Not undead, though their skin is deathly pale because they avoid sunlight. Ice magic is a favorite for battle, but they hit like a runaway horse even without a weapon. They are very powerful individually, and a coven of more than a dozen is no small challenge. Drinking blood is a... more complicated subject. Vampires don’t _need_ to drink blood in the same way that we don’t _need_ to drink water, but that’s simplifying it for the moment.”

He chewed his lip thoughtfully as they neared the treeline, though the act was hidden from the twins. They stayed silent, allowing him to continue.

“They’re not all monsters; most aren’t, to be fair. Modern vampires work and live in cities just as well as any human. The stablehand who cared for our horses last night was a vampire, as was the busboy who fetched clean sheets in the middle of the night. But barbarians are another story... Most have no sense of morality, and live only to build brainwashed harems or militias in the wilds. More than a few hamlets on the frontier have fallen to barbaric vampires, their people twisted into thoughtless slaves or worse. That’s probably what this coven is planning for Schoberbach. All vampires are adept at magical seduction and manipulation, domination, hence why the cook mentioned some of the stolen villagers looked like they were sleepwalking. Killing the puppetmaster usually releases them from the mental domination, thankfully.”

The twins simply nodded acknowledgment. Anthropology lecture aside, it was grim talk, and the weight of exactly what they were trying to do finally settled on the twins’ shoulders.

The forest was quite a dense one; the trees were close together, and the narrow spaces between were filled with heavy underbrush. Their progress slowed as they pushed through bushes that reached the twins’ shoulders. They could only see perhaps two dozen yards in any direction for the trees. They walked single-file, with Zazriel in the lead, clearing a path with his sheer bulk.

“Here’s my thinking,” Zazriel continued. “You two move carefully, _quietly_ around the camp to the cliff above. I’ll attack from the front while you two rain fire from above. I’ll cast a few spells on each of us, boosters for you and resistances for me so... Wait.” He stopped and held up a hand for silence.

The twins strained their ears, and could just make out the sound of snapping twigs, like someone was stumbling through the underbrush towards them. It was still some ways off; they couldn’t see who or what was coming. They waited another moment and they soon were able to better tell it was a single person, probably a man by the sound of his panting, making his way generally west towards the edge of the forest rather than towards the trio. He was rapidly drawing nearer, regardless.

Suddenly, he cried out in surprise or pain, and fell silent. The trio heard what sounded like a woman’s voice muttering in frustration. Zazriel motioned for the twins to draw their swords; they did so and gripped their new short swords tightly in one hand.

Zazriel nodded once and they charged towards the source of the muttering, which fell silent the moment they made moves. The vampire was fleeing, but not quickly enough as the trio caught up to her almost immediately. Zazriel caught up alarmingly quickly and reached out towards the woman’s long red hair. He just managed to snag a handful, then dug in his heels and slammed her to the ground, knocking the breath out of her. Then his other hand wrapped around her long pale neck and hoisted her up against a tree. “Shackle!” He spoke in a commanding voice. When he pulled his hand away, a collar of bark had grown out of the tree and wrapped tightly around the vampire’s throat. She clawed at it, but soon let her hands fall to her sides when it became clear the binding would not budge.

“Help him,” Zazriel pointed to the man lying face down in the dirt, and the twins moved over to him. He turned back to the vampire; she was tall, nearly as tall as him, and built like a predatory cat. She wore only a small fur dress that barely managed to cover her intimates. Porcelain-white skin contrasted sharply against dark lips, red eyes, thigh-length hair the color of redwood bark. Her strikingly sharp, feminine features were twisted into an expression of frustration as she glared defiantly through the eye-slit of Zazriel’s helmet, seething through dagger-like teeth.

He spoke with a voice that could cow a rabid wolf. “And you... What should I do to you?”

“You could thank me for getting your little friend out,” she spat, struggling slightly to speak as the Shackle held her throat tight. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Then you could apologize for chaining me so.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“No, she did,” the young man finally spoke, handing back a canteen Veera had given him. “It’s just, just now, I ‘eard a noise and panicked.”

“I was telling him to be silent. My sister is on watch with me; she heard him crashing through the forest like a clumsy beast.” The vampire spoke the word “sister” as if it were an insult.

“Don’t try to excuse yourself, monster,” Tuule spoke, the malice in his words undercut slightly by his boyish stature and voice. “We’ve come to exterminate you, and groveling won’t save you.”

“Thank you, boss, I’ll handle this one,” Zazriel spoke firmly, and Tuule shut his mouth. “What is your name, vampire?”

“Thalia... Have you truly come to kill them?” She sounded almost hopeful, causing Zazriel to cock his head curiously.

“Yes. Is your sister the only other one on guard now?”

“I can do you one better. I’ve been trying to find a way out for months. You spare me, I help you.” Her voice was level, oddly calm.

“No chance,” Veera stood and pointed her sword at Thalia’s face. “We’ll never trust a monster like-”

“Enough!” Zazriel barked, causing the twins to wince and shrink back. He spoke a bit more gently, “Think. If we kill her here, the other sentry will get suspicious. That might end up waking the whole camp, making this fight harder than it has to be. Let’s hear her out at least.”

“Most thoughtful. Don’t suppose you could release the-”

“No.”

“Hmph. My plan is to lead your two cute little friends back, say that I lost the boy there, but found these two wandering near the road. I put them in cages, leave the locks undone, and we wait until dusk. My sister will be tired from the day shift, and the others only just waking. You attack when I give a signal, and we kill them while they are drowsy. You two children won’t be able to sneak your swords in, though.”

“Makes sense to me.” Zazriel looked at the twins, silently questioning whether they would go along with this, and whether they would allow Thalia to continue believing them to be young humans. They hesitated.

“I see the merit in this,” Tuule admitted as neutrally as he could. “But then what? We can’t exactly just let you wander off.”

“Cross that bridge when we get there, we’re burning daylight. Are we agreed?” Zazriel asked. The twins paused for a long moment, but eventually nodded, causing Thalia to smile brightly. “Alright, I’m going to release you now. Know that if you have been false with me, I will split you lengthwise and take your scalp as a trophy.”

She nodded, no less mirthful for the threat, and breathed a sigh of relief when the magical wooden shackle disintegrated. “Now then, you know my name, but I should like to know yours.”

Zazriel paused a moment, then responded simply with their names, pointing to each as he spoke them. Thalia nodded with a smile, surprisingly calm and friendly considering the situation. “Now then, Tuule, Veera, let’s get you undressed. We always bring back our... catches without anything to their person.”

Zazriel huffed, but nodded, much to the twins’ irritation. He helped the twins stuff their cloaks and swords into their packs, then stuffed their packs into his own. They watched curiously as he did so, so he showed them the inside. “Larger on the inside. Complex enchantment, and very expensive. Off you go, have fun being prisoners.”

They turned to Thalia, who was standing still, staring down at the twins’ bodies. “You two... aren’t human, are you? He...” She pointed down to Tuule’s nethers. “He has two... Um.”

Zazriel glanced down at him, as surprised as Thalia.

“What? Every dragon has two shafts and... Be fair, I didn’t expect to be stripped and led naked into a vampire nest,” Tuule retorted. He closed his eyes for a moment, and his manhoods reformed into a properly human appearance. He grunted in discomfort as it did so. “There, happy?”

“I... guess so.”

Thalia paused for another moment, struggling to parse what she was seeing and hearing. “Ah, yes, let’s go. Please, stay close, obey everything I tell you, do not speak unless commanded to. You have to appear as though you are under my domination.”

The twins grumbled unhappily but agreed. They set off east to the vampire camp. Zazriel watched three pairs of bare legs disappear into the foliage before turning to the village lad, wide-eyed at what had just unfolded before him. “Go home. Do not speak of this to anyone. Say that you managed to slip away while the vampires slept and you passed three mercenaries as you ran.”

The young man nodded emphatically, and took off without a word, much more quietly than he had been earlier.

Zazriel sat, listening to the forest and resting his mind. That quick shackle spell had drained him more than he cared to show. It had done more than hold Thalia fast against the fir tree; it had also sealed her magic and removed her capability to lie, among a few other mental and physical restraints. It was a complicated incantation he had tweaked over the years, but practice didn’t make it less strenuous.

He spent some time meditating in the near-silence, communing with nature and his patron, Murder. He heard the shadow of a whisper as she lent him a drop of godly strength to recover his stamina and prepare for the battle to come. After some time he looked up and saw the sunlight filtering through the tree canopy turning orange. He stood and made his way as quietly as possible in the direction Thalia had led the twins.

* * *

 

Maybe ten minutes after they left Zazriel behind, the twins were led into the vampire camp. Like Gunter had described, they saw tents made from sticks and fir branches scattered roughly in front of a cave. It was not a huge cave, but large enough for maybe five men to stand abreast without needing to stoop. As Thalia led them through the camp, the twins saw that each tent was occupied by one vampire, asleep; many had one or two thralls lying with them.

As they approached the cave mouth, Thalia’s sister approached them. She spoke quickly, asking where the boy ran off to and who these newcomers were. Thalia responded he had managed to clear the forest before she caught up, but she saw two cute young travelers alone and unarmed on the road. The other laughed, clapping Thalia on the shoulder and expressing delight that Thalia was finally showing some initiative. She leered at the twins, who struggled to suppress any reaction they may have had, then waved them in. Dim torchbug lanterns sitting on the floor lit the way as they walked deeper into the cave. Dozens of cages lined the walls of the winding tunnel, woven by skilled bushcrafters from saplings and small still-green branches. Each cage held at least one human, naked and miserable, shivering in the cool air of the cave; most were male.

Finally, they came to an empty cage, some hundred paces down from the entrance. No daylight reached them here around some bends in the cave tunnel. Thalia opened the cage door and waved the twins inside. She closed the door most of the way before leaning in to speak quickly and quietly. “There is nothing but empty cages further down. Dusk will come in a few hours. When you hear shouts, break out and fight. Save the captures later.”

With that, she was gone.

The twins spoke quietly with each other, pausing often to listen for a half-imagined noise.

“Can we trust that pasty bitch?”

“No, but Zaz seemed to. Didn’t seem to like it though.”

“I think he’s fine with any chance to see your ass bouncing around.”

“Shut up Tuule this is serious. The gate’s unlocked, and she didn’t try to dominate us, but this whole things feels screwy to me.”

“Yeah... Seemed awful convenient, her resentment.”

“She seems genuine, but I don’t understand it. Turning against your clan... it’s unheard of back home. I mean, we’re travelling across the whole world, we’re sitting in a cage for the hope of helping ours, yet she jumps at the chance to slaughter hers?”

“She _is_ a barbarian, after all.”

“And a pretty one at that. I saw the way you were looking at her.” Veera’s lips curled into a smug grin.

“Glass houses, dear sister.” Tuule rolled his eyes. “Like you said, this is serious. Literally life and death. Zaz and pasty bitch won’t be able to handle this themselves...”

“I know... I haven’t used magic for fighting in years, even then it was only training, mock fights against our beastfolk. These are bad people, but they’re still people...”

They fell silent, and waited.

* * *

 

“Shice, I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but...” Zazriel was lying on his stomach near the treeline, completely concealed by the underbrush. From here, he could see most of the camp around the cave, including Thalia and her sister on watch. The two vampires sat on the ground on either side of the cave entrance, occasionally saying something to each other, though not enough to be conversation. Zazriel couldn’t hear them from here anyway. He kept count of how many times Thalia glanced towards the treeline; that last one made eight.

Soon, though nowhere near soon enough for his liking, the sky turned from orange to purple as the sun sank below the horizon. Thalia’s sister yawned. The time to attack would be soon; he drew his sword as slowly as he could bear, but otherwise did not move.

Thalia stood and stretched, then said something that put a smile on her sister’s face. The former moved over to her sister and began braiding her hair. She looked up at the treeline once more, then back down at the other vampire and cleanly snapped her neck.

“A signal if ever there was one,” Zazriel muttered as he stood. One quick stretch to get the kinks out of his joints, then he charged forward and out of the forest.

Thalia smiled wickedly as he broke cover. She cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed, “Attack! Wake up!”

A moment later Zazriel reached the first of the tents. A vampire had just poked her head out, bleary-eyed and sluggish, to see what Thalia was shouting about. She didn’t even see Zazriel’s sword before it effortlessly decapitated her.

Not every other vampire was so slow to respond, however. Several more fell to Zazriel’s sword before they were fully aware of him, but about a dozen others had managed to exit their tents before he reached them. They stood in a rough line, facing him with open hands. Several villagers joined them in the line with fists raised, compelled by their mistresses’ mental domination.

Zazriel halted his charge and stood opposite the vampire defensive line, wary of so many powerful opponents gathered together. A few bolts of magic flew at him but his barrier shrugged them off without a problem. A vampire picked up a stone and threw it at him with fearsome strength but he casually batted it away with his shield. The opponents stood at a stalemate, neither willing to advance.

Thalia stood behind her coven mates, also unwilling to do anything. If she attacked from behind, it would give Zazriel a chance to attack and break their formation, but she’d be torn to shreds before he could.

Then a roar sounded from the cave. Two roars, so loud that the very ground trembled. One of the vampires collapsed, desperately clasping her hands against her head as the noise hurt her sensitive hearing. The rest didn’t fare much better; as they covered their ears and doubled over, Zazriel was able to see just what was making the racket.

It was the twins, in their true dragon forms. Each stood nearly ten feet tall at the shoulder on all fours, even taller as their heads were reared back as they roared. Their wings spread wide, wider each than the vampire defensive line. Blue scaled skin gleamed despite the dim starlight, stretched over bodies rippling with reptilian muscle. Multiple pairs of horns sprouted from their huge skulls, each large and sharp enough to punch through a castle wall. They were terrifying, and even Zazriel took an involuntary step back.

Then they stood up.

They towered over the camp. Even their underbellies were lined with scales the size of dinner plates. They flexed their forelimbs, which appeared much more like arms than legs, and the sound of a rockslide swept over the camp as their scales shifted against each other and their claws clenched into fists. Though that seemed a paltry detail as they turned eyes like blazing torches upon the vampires.

They fled.

Not fast enough.

Veera, taller than her brother in this form, took one step forward and snatched a vampire up in one impossibly-strong claw; she simply crushed her in her grip and dropped the bloody remains without breaking stride. Zazriel stood his ground as the vampires fled from the twins, right into his sword. He managed to cut down two more as they ran, sending hewn bodies tumbling. A heartbeat later, the twins had stepped over him. Tuule swiped with a hand and tore a vampire to shreds as casually as Zazriel would crush a roach. Veera swung a tail as big as a cedar and crushed another into the dirt. He marveled at the dragons as they slaughtered the vampires in moments, before any even reached the treeline.

They reared back and roared once more, declaring their victory to the evening sky.

There was a pause as their roars echoed, then their shoulders slumped in relief and they began to shrink. Soon they were back in their human forms.

Zazriel came up to them, handing each their packs. He spoke as they redressed. “You two were... breathtaking. Thank you, both, for the save.”

Veer giggled as she strapped her sword over her cloak. “This time _I_ made _you_ speechless.”

He chuckled and patted her on the back. “Are you okay, though? That was a first for you two.”

Veera’s smile disappeared, but they both nodded. “We just need to... process, I guess. We were worse when we first went hunting,” Tuule said, and Veera tilted her head in agreement.

“Good. Gather yourselves, take what time you need. I have some follow-up with our new friend,” Zazriel said, his tone tender despite the brusqueness of his words.

He made his way into the remains of the camp, stepping over the twisted remains of the vampires. Many of the tents were trampled flat, but he noted with relief that none of the villagers had been killed when the dragons attacked. Most thralls had fainted on the spot when their mistress was killed, some were sitting on the ground holding their heads or rubbing their eyes. Zazriel marched past them, straight to where Thalia was lying on the ground. She opened her eyes as he approached and gingerly rose to her feet. She spoke more loudly than she probably meant to. “Well, your friends really are something.”

“That they are,” Zazriel raised his voice to be heard over the ringing in her ears. “Help me get the thralls together.”

“Fine, fine.”

A little less than an hour later they had gathered the prisoners and slaves by the mouth of the cave; some thirty nine men and maybe four women. Most were unhealthy but eager to leave. Once everyone was together, Zazriel sent the twins back to Schoberbach, the column of villagers in tow. Once they were underway, he turned to Thalia again. “Now then, we have a bridge to cross.”

“You could let me go?” She batted her long lashes at him.

“No chance. But killing you after your help wouldn’t be appropriate.” He crossed his arms and lowered his head thoughtfully. “If you follow us back, they’ll skin you alive. If anyone learns we let you go, they’ll skin _us_ alive...”

He stood in silence for a minute as Thalia shifted uncomfortably, though she made no moves to run. She opened her mouth a couple times as if to offer a suggestion, but closed it without saying anything.

She flinched in surprise when he finally spoke. “Here’s a thought: I collar you, lead you back on a leash. Say I’m taking you back to Capital as proof, a trophy. Alive and unhurt pays well, I’ll say. The villagers won’t be nice about it, but we should be able to get out without issue. Once we’re away, I’ll untie you.”

“And then what?”

“Beats me. What would you do?

“Beats me...” She chewed her lip. “Where are you three traveling to? I’ve never seen dragons on the mainland.”

“West.” She waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.

“Then... could I tag along? There’s nothing for me here anymore. Good riddance and all, but I don’t even know where I’d go next. I don’t think the cities would have me, considering-” she gestured vaguely to her entire self. Her hand fell back to her side and she looked up at Zazriel expectantly. The faceplate of his helmet regarded her blankly, coldly. She couldn’t make out his eyes through the slit thanks to the evening dark.

“We’ll see. Regardless, it’s not up to me; the twins are my employers. Speaking of, let’s catch up.” With that, he turned and jogged towards the forest. Thalia took a quick deep breath then followed.

As they went, Zazriel fished a spare bootlace from his pack. He pinched one end and drew it through the fingers of his other hand, muttering as he did so. Sparks seemed to dance over the cord, and when he was finished the whole length of the cord glowed faintly in the dark. By then, Zazriel and Thalia had caught up to the others and slowed to an easy walking pace.

“Come here, walk in front of me,” Zazriel ordered Thalia. She hesitated a moment but complied meekly, conscious of the glares of the closest villagers. Zazriel tied the enchanted bootlace around her slender neck--a bit more tightly than was necessary, she thought. As he finished knotting it and let go, she felt her limbs grow a bit sluggish. When she spoke, the words seemed to have trouble finding their way to her mouth.

“This isn’t nice.”

“It’s a Shackle, it’s not supposed to be nice.” Everyone listening could hear the capital S. “Put your hands behind your back.”

She complied immediately, the Shackle preventing her from even considering resisting. Rope was wrapped around her wrists and tightened, holding her hands together and rendering her harmless. Zazriel picked up the pace slightly, coming around in front of her now, holding the loose end of the rope. He looped it once around her neck then marched to the front of the group, dragging her along. The rope pulled on her hair and chafed her sensitive skin. As she was led to the front, villagers cussed at her, some spat. Zazriel waved them back, warning them that if they damaged his prize he’d make them pay for it.

They caught up with the twins as the convoy left the forest. They glanced over Zazriel and his prisoner quickly, nodding in satisfaction at the vampire’s situation. Tuule did a double take, then leaned towards his sister. “Does she look like she’s enjoying this a little too much?”

They both gave Thalia another once-over. Her face was flushed, but not in anger. Her breathing was hoarse, but not from exertion. Her legs wobbled slightly, and on closer inspection the inside of her thighs glistened slightly in the starlight. They smirked up at her, but she avoided eye contact. Veera nudged her brother towards Thalia. “Go on, you’re the one with eyes on her.”

“Time and a place, dear sister. Not now, not here,” he replied quietly, subtly indicating the wheat field and the villagers around them. “The town’s right there. I’ll have... a _chat_ with her when we’re alone.”

“I _can_ hear you,” Thalia whispered. “I’d prefer to do this later, too.”

The next few minutes of marching passed in silence. Tuule kept sneaking looks at Thalia, who squirmed under his attention; all the while Veera silently teased her brother for his undisguised interest in her. Zazriel ignored them and kept the marching pace of the whole procession steady.

As they neared the village, they saw a crowd was gathering on the edge of town holding torches aloft. The villagers behind the adventurers called out names and rushed forward, streaming past them. The crowd at the village broke apart as they ran to meet the rescuees. Families hugged, spouses kissed, all were merry and thanked the trio profusely before rushing their liberated loved ones home to feed and clothe them.

In only a few minutes, the four were alone on the street with Gunter. He was smiling ear to ear under his beard, and they could see that his eyes were watering by the light of the torch he held. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Thank you, truly.”

“Just doing the job,” Zazriel answered flatly, though not unkindly.

“How’d everyone know we were coming?” Veera asked.

“We heard roars in the distance, had no idea what they were but it woke just about everybody. Some kids are still crying. Figured it’d be prudent to stand ready in case some vampire beast attacked. Did you see what that was?”

The twins shot a look at each other, but Zazriel chuckled. “Nothing to worry about, but I need to discuss that with you for a moment. Tuule, Veera, if you would find us beds for the night?” He said as he handed Thalia’ leash to Tuule.

With that, he draped a friendly arm around Gunter’s shoulders and led him back to the longhouse. The twins heard him mention “dragons” and “secrecy” but couldn’t make out most of the conversation. Now alone in the street, the three looked at each other. The girls looked at Tuule. He shrugged then led the way to where a lit torch was hanging in a sconce out front a building nearly as large as the longhouse. He took a quiet, perverse glee in giving Thalia’s leash random jerks, causing the tall woman to stumble. She didn’t protest beyond pouting her lip slightly.

A young woman was waiting for them by the door of the inn. She waved them inside, smiling brightly, and led them to what passes for a king’s suite in backwater towns. Two large beds with real mattresses, goose down pillows, furs everywhere. The twins dove into each bed with a dramatic sigh of relief, stripping down and wrapping themselves in the furs laid out for them. Thalia stood in the middle of the floor, her gaze wandering nervously around the room, shifting her weight awkwardly as she struggled weakly against her bindings. She looked back to Tuule sitting up on his bed and froze when she saw his eyes trained on hers. He lifted a slender, powerful arm from under his blankets and crooked a finger at her. She shuffled towards his bed, careful not to trip over her leash trailing on the wooden floor between her legs.

“Stand there,” he said when she was close enough to touch. Thalia stood still at the foot of his bed, arms still tied behind her back and head turned to the side. She blushed furiously as she felt Tuule’s gaze explore every inch of her. “Turn around.”

She complied without hesitation, but not without trepidation. With her back to the brother, she was facing the sister; Veera had a small, mischievous grin on her face as she watcher Tuule order Thalia around. The vampire looked away and studied the floor, simultaneously enjoying her compromised situation and desperately wishing it would end already. Then she felt the rope around her wrists tighten for a moment before sliding off, freeing her hands at last. She held her hands up in front of her chest and rubbed the sore spots where the rope had chafed her sensitive skin for the last hour. There were red marks, but they’d fade. Zazriel knew how to tie knots, that much was clear.

She jumped as she felt poke the back of her leg, but she didn’t pull away; maybe due to the Shackle, maybe not. Tuule ran a single fingertip up the back of her knee, over her hamstrings, through her long hair; then he hooked the hem of her dress and lifted it slowly. She covered her face with her hands as she felt him squeeze a handful of her ass.

Then the door opened and Zazriel strode in, already shucking his gear onto the floor as he beelined to Veera’s bed. Thalia jumped in surprise and tried to stammer out some explanation, but stopped when she saw he didn’t care. In four long strides, he was stripped down to his undershirt and collapsed into bed next to Veera, who giggled and stroked his hair as he let out a noise that sounded like it couldn’t decide if it was a growl or a sigh.

Another minute later, Zazriel sat up and turned to face the other bed. He hoisted Veera into his lap before speaking as if Thalia wasn’t there. “Long day, so let’s keep this short. What are we going to do with her?”

“I want to keep her,” Tuule said, still exploring her backside with his hands while she squirmed under his touch.

“We can tell. Veera?”

She chewed her lip for a moment before responding. “It means we’ll have to feed her, too. And maybe get another horse, a set of gear. Our purse is already pretty light as it is.”

Zazriel nodded thoughtfully, and Tuule grunted in begrudging agreement. “Good point. I said I’d at least get her out of town safely since she helped us with the coven, but we shouldn’t just let her run off into the woods. She wants to travel with us, since she doesn’t have a place to go.”

“I’m all for it,” Tuule said absentmindedly as he slowly loosened the laces of Thalia’s dress. “But she’ll have to be put under my control.”

“You mean _our_ control, dear brother?”

“That’s what I said, yes.”

Zazriel and Veera both rolled their eyes. “Well, that Shackle of mine is a decent stopgap, but it’ll wear down after a week or so. I could place a glyph on her but that wouldn’t be much better.”

Thalia finally spoke up, peeking out from her hands. “I can follow orders. I’ll obey you as long as you keep me.” Her voice trembled a bit, but she sounded like she was serious.

“As much as I’d like to believe you, these two won’t. Don’t the dragons have some kind of control magic for their slaves?” Thalia’s toes curled ever so slightly when Zazriel said “slaves.”

“Yeah, but we don’t know it. And we barely ever need to force slaves to obey us anyway. Most are living much more comfortably as our property than they were as mainland citizens, so following orders from the people feeding and housing them isn’t something most struggle with.” Veera sounded almost flippant while discussing people’s lives in such a light. “But speaking of struggling,” she said, looking up at Zazriel and gesturing meaningfully at her glyph.

He shrugged and ran a finger over it, causing it to glow once again. Veera gasped lightly as the erotically-charged magic took hold once again. Zaz worked a few fingers into Veera’s cunt, already slick with arousal. He continued speaking even as she moaned in his lap.

“So what’s our solution? We have a few stopgaps. Thalia, your thoughts?”

“I, uh...” She shivered when her dress fell to the floor. Her hands moved to cover her breasts, and she crossed her legs in an effort to hide her nethers. Tuule’s wandering hands continued causing her to squirm. “A comfortable slave life sounds nice.”

“Tuule, hold off for a sec. C’mere,” Zazriel beckoned Thalia over. When she was close enough he reached up and plucked the Shackle from her neck. “There we go. More honest. Does your answer change?”

Thalia blinked hard, as if she had just awoken from a nap. Her face became less flushed, her posture less bashful, though the arousal dripping down her inner thighs showed no signs of slowing. She opened her mouth to respond, paused for a moment to think, then said, “No, I don’t think so. Slavery, especially under the dragons, is better than being executed for the crimes of my ‘sisters.’ I understand that you don’t trust me, but I have no intention of running; I have nowhere to go. I’d likely starve to death within a week. I’ll stay.”

“Works for me. Veera? Tuule?”

Veera just nodded, her tongue was lolling out of her mouth already as she rolled her hips into Zazriel’s hand. Tuule tilted his head back and forth uncertainly for a moment. “She scares me when she’s at full strength.”

“You’re a dragon.”

“And she can control minds!” He huffed. “Alright, quick test while we’re safe. Thalia, try to dominate me. Try to make me, uh, kiss Zaz’s foot.”

Zazriel shot him a look, but didn’t object. Thalia nodded and moved back to stand in front of the dragon boy. He didn’t move as she reached out and placed her palm against his forehead. She closed her eyes in concentration, but after a few moments sighed and stepped back. “Tuule, stand up, go over there, and kiss Zazriel’s foot.”

Tuule didn’t budge. The boys let out a breath they didn’t realize they’d been holding. “Did you feel anything?”

“Yeah,” Tuule answered as he massaged his temples. “Felt like a strong urge to obey, but I’ve had stronger desires for food. That was... unnerving, but I’m okay now.”

Thalia sighed with relief that he seemed to be giving his all-clear. “So? _Master_ Tuule?”

He bit his lip and sucked in a breath. “Okay, I like that. You can stay. Start by sitting here. You’re going to help with that headache you just gave me.”

She followed his commands, and soon he was sitting in her lap on the bed, eyes closed and quietly moaning with relief as Thalia massaged his scalp with her strong, dextrous fingers.

“Crisis averted,” Zazriel huffed. He grunted as Veera, still squirming in his lap, started teasing his dick. “I think that’s all for tonight. We’ll talk more tomorrow before we leave. C’mere you tease.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pronounce "Thalia" with a hard "th" rather than the soft "th" you get from "the" and "that", but i mean i won't stop you from pronouncing it however your mind reads it. It's like GIF vs GIF, except about a sexy vampire lady, and who doesn't love a sexy vampire lady?
> 
>  
> 
> ...I'm very tired


	4. The Next Leg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the vampire coven destroyed and a big reward on its way, the party prepares to continue with their journey to the port town of Gusen. But how will Thalia's presence affect the party as a whole?
> 
> (Not much, as it turns out.)

Veera woke up the next morning the same she had the morning before: stuffed. She grumbled aloud, “Zaz!”

He was still wrapped around her, half-asleep. “Mm, what?”

“Stop doing this, it’s uncomfortable.”

“Stop asking me to fill you up when we’re in an inn. It’s a good look on you, though.”

She slapped him playfully on the face before dragging herself up out of bed and hobbling to the toilet in the adjoining room. Zazriel chuckled at her state and received a withering glare for it before she slammed the door behind her. He sat up and looked across at Tuule and his new slave.

They were still asleep. Tuule was sprawled out on the bed in contrast to Thalia who lay flat and straight, arms at her sides. His head was resting on her chest, using her pert bust as a pillow. Zazriel felt a pang of envy, for his large horned head would never know such a gentle pleasure. He rose and dressed, sure to fully hide his inhuman features behind his armor as ever, then left the room.

The same girl from last night was at the desk, but dozing with her head on the table. He moved quietly past her and out the door into the late morning sunlight. Zazriel just stood in the road, his face turned up to the sun to feel the warmth through his faceplate and listen to the sounds in the air. 

Schoberbach was already awake, but certainly not busy. All the people they had rescued the night before were still at home, malnourished and emotionally fragile. Many had a family member or friend with them. But everyone else was already hard at work. There’s no such thing as a lazy morning in a farming village; cows needed to be milked, fowl fed, fields tended.

Zazriel started his day by visiting the blacksmith. “Ho there, I need a special piece made up before we leave today today.”

“That’s short notice. What is it?”

“A collar. Sturdy, maybe leather. A ring for a leash front and back. And one silver stud on the inside. It’s for my vampire prize, it’ll keep her powerless while we drag her back to Capital,” Zazriel explained. The silver stud wouldn’t actually do anything, but superstitions about vampires--especially in rural towns--would at least make the villagers  _ think  _ that it would. He pulled a silver piece from him purse and handed it to the smithy. “This should do for the stud. When it’s forged I’ll lay some enchantments into it. Don’t want her getting away before I turn her in for the bounty.”

“Oh that’s not so bad. Give me a few hours, I’ll have that ready for ya.”

With that, Zazriel took to wandering and soon found himself in the longhouse. Elena, the waitress from yesterday, was at the counter and broke into a brilliant smile when she caught sight of him. She waved him to a seat and brought him a magnificent breakfast of bread still warm from the oven, butter, eggs, bacon, tomatoes, and citrus juice. Zazriel lifted his faceplate ever so slightly before he gratefully dug in, pausing between mouthfuls to answer Elena’s eager questions about the rescue mission. Other villagers passing by or stopping for a quick lunch came over to thank him again, more personally. He took it all in stride, remaining humble and carefully omitting the truth about the twins’ identities and actions. After he ate, he thanked Elena profusely for the free meal and headed out.

He went around the village, house by house, checking in on the rescuees. He lent his healing magic to those who needed it, and graciously accepted thanks from all. Many loved ones of the rescuees tried to gift Zazriel with jewels or family heirlooms, but he sternly turned them all down. “The guild is already paying us for this,” is all he’d say. Though he did accept one set of clothes for each of the twins.

Eventually, Zazriel wandered back to the inn. It was shortly after noon, and he found the rest of his party ready to leave. Zazriel hefted the clothes he had received, and soon the other three were changed. Thalia’s barbarian dress was discarded in favor of Veera’s travel cloak. Veera’s new dress was a simple but pretty garment that accentuated her slender form and light complexion well. Tuule looked a lot less whimsical dressed in a dark doublet and heavy trousers; it was almost possible to take him seriously as the sponsor of the expedition.

“Let’s get some food in you, then I need to pick up a piece from the smithy. We’ll leave straight after,” Zazriel said as they filed out of the inn, waving goodbye to the girl at the desk who cheerfully wished them well.

Elena and the longhouse patrons loudly welcomed the adventurers when they strode into the longhouse, though everyone eyed Thalia with varying levels of suspicion and fear. They sat together and Elena soon brought two more meals out for the twins. Zazriel spoke out before she moved off again. “Elena, could we get some red meat for my prize here?” He asked courteously, indicating Thalia sitting with her hands folded in her lap and staring at the table. The waitress regarded the vampire with naked hostility, but nodded, and soon returned with a plate. It was a cutoff from someone’s steak last night, and hadn’t been kept well. But she ate it anyway.

They chatted aimlessly as they ate. The twins slowly worked through their food, since they couldn’t really leave until Zazriel’s commission from the blacksmith was ready. Eventually, they started talking about the next leg of their odyssey.

“So, we return to Capital, get our pay, then... just hit the road?” Veera said around a mouthful of bacon.

“Just about. Thalia can’t run the whole was to Gusen, and doubling up on a horse will only slow us down. We’ll have to buy or otherwise  _ find _ another horse for her.”

Thalia kept her head low, feeling somewhat ashamed for the trouble she felt she was causing.

“Okay, but say we do that. Then what?”

Zazriel pulled out his map and spread it across the table. “Say we don’t actually find her a horse. An option would be to sell the ones we have then walk to Brienhardt at the mouth of the Capital river. From there, we could book passage on a skiff up the coast to Wemenburg. It’d cut maybe a day off our trip since there isn’t a direct road there from the Cap. But then we’d have to buy horses again or something else; we’d be bushwhacking up to Gusen from there, but it’ll be direct at least. We’ll be roughing it regardless, the roads in Lura aren’t great.”

“I mean, that sounds reasonable, if a bit pricey.”

“Nah, the horses would make us plenty enough for a boat ride. The only trouble is how to get out of Wemenburg. I suppose we could just hike through the forest, but it’d be slow going. It’s some fifty miles as the crow flies, and rough terrain the whole way.”

“Oof, yeah. That’s, what? Three days?”

“If we’re lucky. I’ve been through that forest on foot once, only once. My best day--travelling light and alone--I made eleven miles. It is  _ very  _ difficult out there. Not very hilly, but hundreds of little creeks and gullies, heavy underbrush, jagged rock walls, not even a game trail to follow. If I didn’t know better, I’d say a god built it as a cruel joke. Riding lets you circle around the worst of it, and you can do Wemenburg to Gusen in a day if you push it. Saves on provisions if nothing else.”

“I guess that’s a question we’ll answer later,” Tuule said, polishing off his eggs and leaning back with a contented sigh. “Let’s get back to Capital first. Troll the horse market, then we’ll decide what to do.”

They nodded and stood to leave, their very late breakfast finished.

On their way out of town, Zazriel stopped in at the blacksmith. The collar was ready for him, and the blacksmith insisted it was a gift from him and his family. “You rescued my sons, this is the least I could do.” Zazriel clapped the man on the shoulder in silent thanks then headed out, leading the party out of Schoberbach. A small group of villagers gathered and waved them off.

They walked their horses at first; Veera led hers and Zazriel’s as the paladin fastened the collar around Thalia’s slender throat. She moved her head around to get a feel for it, then nodded. “It’s snug, but not painful. This is fine.”

“I’ll lay a few spells into it when we have some downtime. Nothing nefarious like the Shackle, but enough. A few simple things to condition you, for a little while at least.”

She huffed. “Master?”

Tuule blinked in surprise, still getting used to being addressed as such. “Uh, yeah it makes sense. I know we’d be more comfortable if I actually had some control over you.”

“You’re a  _ dragon _ .” 

Tuule rolled his eyes at being told this again. “A dragon who up until now has lived a comfortable, lazy life free of worldly danger. I’ve never seen a vampire outside of a story book before last night. I won’t abuse you, Thalia, but it would make me feel better at least until we get to know you.”

That seemed to satisfy her. The three adventurers mounted up; Thalia was forced to jog alongside her master’s horse by a leash tied to the loop on her collar. A quick blessing from Zazriel helped her keep up as they rode back to Capital. But even with his boons, she was exhausted and her bare feet were bruised. Badly sunburnt as well, just to add insult to injury.

* * *

The sun was low in the sky when they reached Capital, but the city was still awake and busy. The party rode through the outskirts of town, past the inn they had spent the night before last, up to the city gate. It seemed like the evening traffic had yet to pick up, so the approach was quiet and uncrowded. There was a small commotion at the gate itself though; it looked like a dwarf woman was arguing with one of the gate guards. The party watched the argument unfold as they approached, though more because it was the only thing happening rather than any specific interest.

“I travelled all the way down the river and you’re telling me it was for nothing?” the dwarf woman, quite young by the sound of her voice, was almost shouting in the guard’s face. Or rather, his navel.

“Ma’am, access to the city proper is-”

“Is tightly controlled especially for non-humans. Yeah, you mentioned. But why can’t I go in? What reason have ye for keepin’ me out?”

The guard sighed heavily; apparently they had been going in circles for a while now. “That is my perogative. And you’ve yet to give me one good reason to let you within these sacred walls.”

“I’ve got money ta burn, how is that not a good enough reason for ye?”

“Plenty of ways to spend money outside the walls, too. Even some places that don’t mind more...  _ animated  _ clientele.”

“What did ye call me you-”

“Is there a problem over here?” Zazriel interjected as his horse drew near. He leant over slightly, making sure that his pendant bearing the crest of the Church was hanging plain to see. The guard did a double take then straightened his posture.

“No, sir. Just a rowdy traveller who doesn’t respect the laws of Capital.”

“Like hell there isn’t a problem, you shiceter!” The dwarf girl spat.

Zazriel dismounted and moved close to them. He heard the twins dismount behind him, and was silently grateful that they remembered to respect the Capital proper. 

The guard subtly took a respectful step back at his approach. He might be a city guard, but Paladins of the Church of the Abounding Pantheon held incredible legal power in their own right, especially in the birthplace of the Church; Zazriel was practically a Lord within the holy city. He strode up to the dwarf. “What is your name, girl?

“Annelie, of Enzk, of the Mithril Mountains,” she said as she glared up at this newcomer. “And who might you be, ye big cunt?”

“An impartial third party, with a lot of pull in Capital,” Zazriel growled, the metal of his faceplate causing his words to ring cold. The dwarf opened her mouth to reply but suddenly realized just what the paladin was implying. She shut her mouth with a  _ click _ , and Zazriel finally got a moment to get a good look at her.

She was short, obviously; the top of her head didn’t even reach Zazriel’s groin. She was thickset like most dwarves, with ruddy skin, plump cheeks, full lips, a button nose, and a heavy brow. Her eyes were bright gold and alight with indignation and frustration. Wine-colored hair tumbled out from under a morion to the small of her back where it was gathered in a loose, messy braid. Her torso was clad in a dark-colored gambeson under a metal cuirass, a large pauldron on her right shoulder, and vambraces on each forearm. A large travel pack rested by her feet; it was bloated under the weight of her provisions, but what caught Zazriel’s eye was the barrel of a musket poking out the top.

An interesting character, to be sure; if nothing else she could make a fun drinking companion tonight. He turned back to the guard. “Why is she being barred entry?”

“Orders from the Cap, m’lord,” the guard mumbled, unconvincingly.

“I’ve been away for some time. Which orders would those be?”

The guard looked away as he answered. “Humans only, m’lord. That’s what I was told.”

“Indeed?” The guard didn’t answer. Zazriel huffed, and motioned for Annelie to don her pack. “Well, that doesn’t sound like the Cap I know. She’ll come with me, I’ll make sure she stays out of trouble.”

The guard couldn’t bring himself to object or even look Zaz in the faceplate. He just nodded dumbly and stepped aside. Zazriel motioned to the rest of the party to advance, and the four of them entered the gate, Annelie following close behind.

Once they were out of earshot of the gate, she piped up from beside Zazriel. “Well, I owe ye m’thanks. Sorry about the big cunt thing, I was pissed,” she said bashfully before holding up her hand towards him. “I’m Annie, nice to meetcha!”

Zazriel chuckled and reached down to shake her hand, bending over slightly to reach. His hand completely engulfed hers and they shook once. “Zazriel. Nice to meet you properly, Annelie. These are my employers, Tuule and Veera, and this is our... companion, Thalia.”

Annelie looked curiously at Thalia’s collar and leash, but didn’t push it. She happily shook everyone’s hand in turn. “So uh, what’s next for you lot?”

“Shopping,” Veera answered, her eyes twinkling.

“Nope. Payday,” Zazriel corrected. “We’re headed to the longhouse. Care to accompany us?”

“Aye! Lead on,” Annelie replied cheerfully.

* * *

In the gathering dusk, the longhouse was as rowdy as you could ask. Booze flowed, crowds roared, men and women scored, as ever.

The party lingered outside the main doors, wary to enter the maelstrom of evening revelry, especially since Tuule and Thalia had a rope leash between them. Zazriel asked them to wait with the horses and went inside alone. The other four earned plenty of curious or derisive looks as they waited, but the paladin returned within a minute. “Done. Angela says hi, by the way. Let’s hit the market now, we need to exchange these-” he held up two platinum coins “-for gold pieces at the bank. The exchange rate tends to be better in the evening, so this worked out well.”

“The exchange rate changes?” Veera asked.

The answer came from Annelie. “Aye. The Mithril Mountains send precious metals down the river all day to the Capital mint, so there’s always new money being made.”

“Merchants rarely take platinum, since its usually worth so much gold. You wouldn’t buy anything less than a house with platinum around here,” Zazriel added. “So, the wealthy of the Cap proper get smaller coins when they go shopping during the day, and the bank can give them a worse exchange rate since they don’t notice or don’t care they’re losing a bit of gold on the change. But they bring their rates back down after sundown so the normal people can get a good rate. End of the day, bank makes a tidy profit without inciting riots. Everyone’s content, or at least too jaded to care.”

“And so we’re going to get gold for our platinum? Why were we paid like that in the first place if those are kinda useless?”

Zazriel shrugged. “Maybe it’s easier on the Guild’s accountants, maybe mercenaries prefer being paid in big coins, I haven’t a clue. It’s always platinum for big jobs, I never bothered to ask.”

As they had been talking, they had been walking through Capital, leading their horses by the reins. Annelie was looking in every direction at once, soaking in the sights that seemed so ordinary to the others. But by now they had arrived at the bank, and once again Zazriel entered alone.

The sun had set and turned the sky purple. They stared up at the sky, for in this alley there wasn’t much else to look at, and Tuule began talking about the stars out of boredom if nothing else. He started by pointing out each of the few dozen God Stars, naming them as he did, easy to make out against the others since they shone much brighter than any other light in the sky. He explained to Thalia and Annelie how to navigate by them as he pointed out five directly above that formed an arrow pointing North. 

Then as he paused for breath, Veera jumped in and started talking about the Angel Stars, and began naming constellations. She explained that the densest were gathered around God Stars and that these were named for the God Star they neighbored. The spaces between these dense constellations were mostly unnamed, and it’s difficult to tell the difference between Angel Stars and Demon Stars. The lonely Angel and Demon stars are much dimmer than those around the God Stars, but they were plentiful to the point the night sky had no large swatches of black in it.

“And do you know why they’re called that?”

The rest jumped as Zazriel spoke from behind them; they had been so swept up in stargazing they hadn’t noticed him return. He was also staring up at the heavens, awe evident even through his faceplate.

“Those are the seats of the deities. The constellations around the God Stars are made up of the angels who serve the god who sits there. The Demon Stars are gathered around Angel Stars in turn, but they’re so dim you can’t see most of them. There are... hundreds times more demons as angels, maybe. Demons ally under angels in the same way angels ally under gods, like a feudal system, and you can see that in the sky.”

“Like a feudal system?”

“Hm... From the top, gods pull power from Hell, where the souls of the dead are... melted down, I suppose, into pure energy. The gods mete out power to angels as rewards, and angels mete out power to demons. All get extra by dealing with mortals; paladins like myself are granted holy powers in exchange for a life of service, and warlocks promise their own souls for a bit of power up front. Paladins tend to adhere to a strict ethic set forth by their patron, commune often, and tend to serve only gods or archangels. The souls of those they kill are taken by their patron exclusively, so it’s in the patrons’ best interests to keep their champion powerful and happy. They also serve the Church directly for the betterment of Tabenon. Warlocks tend to swear themselves to demons or lesser angels, and most don’t obey any creed beyond sending souls to their patron. The more souls sent to the heavens, the more power given to the warlock; and holy power is addictive. Warlocks also don’t often hear from their patrons beyond exchanging souls for power, so they tend to be lawless individuals, driven only by their thirst for more power. Many quickly earn a bounty for kidnapping, torture, murder, but some are perfectly normal citizens. Everyone’s an individual.”

“How do you know all this?” Annelie asked, her voice sounding especially childlike in the wake of Zazriel’s lecture.

“I’ve been alive for a long time, and a paladin for almost as long. Murder and I have talked a lot. I grew up in the Church. I’ve picked up quite a few things over the decades.”

“How long, exactly?” Veera prodded gently.

Zazriel didn’t answer for some time. They stood in the street in front of the bank staring up at the sky together, earning a few weird looks from passersby.

“I don’t know exactly. There was a long stretch I spent away from civilization, where I didn’t count the days or even the seasons. Old.” He heaved a weary sigh. “But we need to get to the night market, let’s find some horses.”

The stars and oil lamp posts lit the streets, guiding them to the square in the center of town. The day vendors had packed up their stalls and left, and in their place was the night market. Colorful lanterns lit the square, highlighting the completely different selection of goods the original party had seen only two days ago. The fresh produce and shiny jewelry and fowl and perfumes were gone; in their place stood lanterns made of glowing crystals, stalls lined with exotic-looking spices, beastfolk slaves with price boards hanging around their necks, tools for the less savory individual, and, most importantly, horses.

There was one stall selling horses, so at least they wouldn’t have to shop around. Annelie wandered off, entranced by the sights and smells and sounds of the market, while the party approached the horse vendor. “Blessed evening,” Zazriel greeted her.

“To you as well. What can I do ya for?”

“A horse for this new member of our delightful little party. We’re riding to Gusen.”

“So speed won’t help ye much then, hey? Ya need sturdy legs for that forest over there, even your horses don’t look ideal if I might say.”

“We’ll manage.”

“Aye, but all you’ll manage is breaking yer horses legs. I ain’t tryin’ teh cheat you, sir, I just care about these beasts,” the vendor spoke with hardly a pause for breath. “I got something that might work better anyhow, my partner brought in a wagon and his puller this morning, and doesn’t need them anymore--long story. Nice wagon, covered, springs on the axles, worn but in good nick. Puller’s a horse-ox, steady and sturdy as anything, she’ll pull ye all the way to Gusen without needing a rest through the day. Trade me your horses there, and I’ll get you the wagon. Throw in the empty barrels and boxes we got on there as well.”

“Sounds more like you’re trying to flog your trash on us.”

“One’s junk is another’s treasure.”

“Quite. Throw in some gold for travel provisions and you have a deal.”

“I can cut out yer middleman and just fill those barrels myself. Pickled and smoked foods, water, biscuit, ale. How’s that?”

“Even better.” Zazriel reached out and shook her hand.

“Great, I’ll take those reins from ye. I’ll have it ready for you at the north gate in one... two hours.”

“Two hours at the north gate, we’ll be there.”

Zazriel turned away as the vendor led their three horses away by their reins. He let them go, tackle and all. Saddlebags too, for there wasn’t anything more important than some hardy food and their tent in there. “Alright, let’s kill some time. Plenty to see here. Some food would be nice too. Here, let’s split up and meet at the north gate,” Zazriel said to the twins. He handed them each a heavy handful of gold coins and they each wandered off in different directions, Thalia still in tow behind Tuule.

* * *

Zazriel followed his nose to a stall that was selling freshly-grilled corn. He bought two ears slathered in butter and lifted his faceplate just enough to eat as he wandered the market.

“Oi! There ya went,” Annelie’s voice called out. He turned and looked down to see her trotting up to him from behind. “For a big guy you get lost in a crowd pretty easy.”

“Could say the same for you, though not the big part. Enjoying yourself?” he asked, having noticed her bag was even more bloated than before.

“It’s amazing here! I mean, I grew up in Enzk up the river in the foothills so it’s not exactly far, but still. I was raised on stories about this city and the heroes who call it home and the effects its had on the world. It’s like meeting a storybook hero!” Her face was practically glowing with excitement and awe.

“A hero, hm?” Zazriel mused, too quietly for Annie to hear him over the din of the market. “Well then, I’m glad I was able to get you through the gate.”

“Likewise!”

“How about a better view?” he asked after a pause, indicating his shoulders. She nodded cautiously, then yelped in surprised as he leant down and hoisted her onto his shoulders like a father would his young child, careful to not let the pommel of his sword bruise her bottom. “Better?”

“Better...” Annie was breathless. A couple feet higher than even Zazriel’s viewpoint, she could see the entire market square. The lights danced around her as Zaz continued to wander aimlessly, answering her occasional enthusiastic question.

Two hours flew by. Rather than split up, Annelie asked to stick around for the night at least, and Zazriel consented. They strolled to the north gate, Annelie still on his shoulders.

* * *

Veera wasn’t that hungry; the late breakfast they had eaten in Schoberbach was huge. So instead, she went about shopping. One nice dress was all well and good, but she was damn near royalty, and royalty had wardrobes, by the stars.

Somehow, she managed to find a large stall selling fine linens. She spent her two hours and most of the gold that Zazriel had given her there, assembling a variety of dresses, trousers, tunics, doublets, and more. The vendor winced slightly as she stuffed the new, extremely well-made clothes into her rucksack without ceremony.

Satisfied, Veera wished them well and headed out, making her way towards the gate. The dark alleys and quiet streets made her nervous, but she met up with Zazriel and Annelie without trouble.

* * *

Tuule took his gold and left the market without hesitation, Thalia in tow with the end of her leash tucked into her master’s belt. He went back to the bank, something having occurred to him as Zazriel was haggling with the horse merchant.

Inside, a lone man was manning the counter. It was awfully quiet this time of night; too late for the day crowd, too early for the nocturnal. When Tuule approached the counter, he saw that the clerk was a vampire; pale skin, red eyes, the lot. 

“How may I help you tonight?” he asked, his voice surprisingly dignified despite his youthful appearance. The clerk looked Thalia up and down, his gaze lingering on the black collar around her throat, but kept his expression professionally neutral.

“I’d like to exchange some coins. And it really matters that talk of this does not leave this building.”

“Of course sir,” the clerk replied. His manner of speech too bland to tell if he was being condescending. “May I see the currency?”

Tuule fished out his handful of dragon money from his purse and laid the steel-colored coins on the counter. The clerk’s immaculate eyebrows raised in surprise, but not that much. “It has been some months since I’ve seen coins from the dragon continent, but never this many at once. The exchange rate is good these days, would you want gold on these?”

“Please,” Tuule replied, relieved that dragon money wasn’t as rare as he had imagined. Out of the ordinary, but not unheard of; he could live with that.

The clerk gathered the coins and closely inspected each with a magnifying glass before disappearing into the back room.

“You holding up?”

Thalia looked a little surprised at being addressed without preamble. “Um, yes. Though the leash is somewhat humiliating. People stare.”

“Quite... We never got the chance to enchant that collar. When we bed down, I’ll get Zaz to work something up. I’d like to not have to use this anymore, too,” he replied, giving the rope a tug for emphasis. “I want the attention even less than you do.”

He paused for a moment, staring at the rope in his hands before looking up into Thalia’s red eyes. “Tell you what, I’ll untie you for now if you’ll behave yourself.”

“Of course, thank you, master.”

Tuule bristled ever so slightly as he undid the knot holding the leash to her collar. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

Thalia cocked her head curiously. “Then, how did your slaves back home address you?”

“As ‘my lord,’ if not by name. They might be slaves, but I grew up around and with many of them... We’ll discuss this later,” Tuule interrupted himself as he heard the clerk making his way back to the front.

“There you are, sir,” he said as he hefted a sack of gold onto the counter. “Thank you for your business. Do take care.”

Tuule gaped; the sack of gold for his pocket change was larger than their pay for the vampire contract. He shook his head once to recenter himself then picked it up as he expressed his thanks to the clerk.

Back on the street, Thalia leaned in. “Um, should I carry that for you, m’lord?”

“That’s much nicer than ‘master,’ but no, you won’t be handling money. Regardless, we should get you some real clothes, perhaps a bath for us both.”

It was a fair assessment. Thalia was still barefoot, wearing only Veera’s old travel cloak; she was even without undergarments. Both of them were covered in dust, and Thalia’s lower legs were splattered with dried mud.

They spent the next hour back in the market square. Tuule bought her two sets of clothes: one simple plain dress that fell to her knees, and a doublet with matching tights. Two pairs of shoes as well: one sturdy pair of boots and one pair of light shoes. At her request, he bought her a hat with a wide brim that would help shade her in the day. He bought himself some clothes as well as they were shopping. Just a few sets of sturdy travelling clothes, and one fine outfit of black silk on a whim.

Shopping complete, they made for the bathhouse. Beautiful attendants washed them head to toe, then they spent some time indulging in a hot bath. Tuule hadn’t felt this relaxed since he was back home. Thalia seemed to be enjoying this new experience as well.

Finally, they left and headed for the north gate, but paused for some food at a roadside stall.

* * *

Tuule and Thalia were a bit late. When they arrived, Zazriel and Veera were loading crates onto a covered wagon while the horse merchant hitched a large beast at the front. It looked exactly how the name horse-ox would suggest; four strong legs and a thick body built for pulling. The two latecomers helped out with the last of the loading. They saw that all their possessions from their horses’ saddlebags had been moved over, though in fairness there wasn’t much to move. In the wagon, there were several crates full of smoked meats and fish, pickled fruits and vegetables, and one waterproofed crate that was just packed with biscuit. Three barrels were also aboard; two were filled with fresh water, one with ale.

In the end, Annelie was determined to stick with the party. None had any objections, and they cheerfully welcomed her aboard.

Though it was well after dark, they hit the road. Zazriel took the reins at first, driving the horse-ox, whose name turned out to be Hilda. She was slow, only able to maintain a brisk walking pace, but she could pull for hours on end without the need for rest. As a result, they made surprisingly good progress along the north road that ran alongside the capital river. The others slept in the wagon as Zazriel drove Hilda until they reached Gagenau, a logging village some fifteen miles up the road from Capital. 

“Oi, someone switch with me, I’m dozing up here.”

Thalia was the only one to even stir. “Mmph, alright, switch ya.”

She was still groggy as she clambered into the driver’s seat, but soon woke up fully. She took the reins and drove Hilda out the other side of Gagenau. Zazriel stayed on the bench with her since there wasn’t enough room for him in the back with the others. As he fell asleep, arms folded and chin on his chest, he mused that Thalia must be relieved to be active at night again, instead of being bullied into the day shift with her coven.

* * *

The party travelled in relative peace for the rest of the night and the next day. They took turns on the reins, sleeping in shifts as they went. Zazriel put a small glyph on Hilda that bolstered the horse-ox’s stamina, and they only ever stopped for a few minutes at a time to feed and water her. The big girl didn’t complain; rather, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

As they traveled, Zazriel took some time to lay a few glyphs into Thalia’s collar. He explained everything he was doing to the vampire and her master as he did: while away from Tuule without explicit permission, she would feel intense loneliness. If she disobeyed his orders, her mind would go blank and her limbs numb. If she tried to attack Tuule or anyone he perceived as a friend, she would feel searing pain from the collar and be unable to breathe. It all sounded terribly unpleasant, and the conditions seemed quite vague, but Zazriel assured them that it was merely insurance. Though Thalia had been perfectly obedient and even submissive since Schoberbach, the twins felt more at ease with her under some magical constraints. She wasn’t happy about it, but understood that as long as she kept doing what she was doing, there would be no need for the magical punishments.

The next afternoon, they turned off the westbound road to Aichrinberg. Hilda pulled the cart directly north, skirting the marsh to the north of small port town. The party had to get out and walk for much of this stretch, since the soft ground often trapped the wheels of their wagon. But with the five of them on hand to push the wagon out of any rut it fell into, they had no trouble maintaining a decent pace.

Shortly after nightfall, they crossed the border from Veia into Lura, and in the early morning they entered the small farming village of Schut. The twins jumped out of the moving wagon to purchase some fruit, then ran to catch up and leapt aboard, giggling at the small adventure.

“Sorry you’re not getting to see much after all, Annie,” Zazriel said as they forded the river north of Schut.

“You joking? This is great,” she replied, smiling wide. “I spent me whole childhood in the shadow of the Mithril Mountains, cooped up in a little mining town. Never knew anything outside the couple dozen humans and dwarves there and the big hole in the ground. So, the day I come of age, I set out to see what there is to see. Mum and papa gave me this-” she thumped a fist against her mythril cuirass- “as a good luck present, and I built this meself,” she said, caressing her musket with her last words.

“How long ago? Miss them?”

“Ah, can’t ‘ave been more than a fortnight before I met you lot. And yeah, a little bit, but I’m enjoying my little adventure too much to even think about goin’ back anytime soon.”

Zazriel could only nod at that.

They pressed on, and around noontime were passing through Dorf.

“Last stop before we head into the rough forest,” Zazriel called to the others. Some sleeping, all bored. “Let’s get some fresh produce, top off our water barrel. Have someone go over the wagon while we have the chance.”

The party split up, except for Thalia who remained with the wagon, half-asleep. 

Annelie returned within a few minutes, a craftsman in tow. The two of them looked over the wagon, but apart from the shabby look of the thing, there were no serious problems with the actual workings of it. The craftsman patched a few holes in the canvas before he left with a handful of Annie’s silver for his trouble.

The twins returned less than an hour later. Veera with a basket of assorted fruits, and Tuule with a basket of baked goods. The four of them shared some pastries and beer while they waited for Zazriel to come back.

He took his sweet time. The sun was ready to set when he finally returned. “Sorry for the wait,” he said in response to the mixture of worried and irritated looks he got as he climbed onto the driver’s bench. He gave the reins a flick, and Hilda dutifully pulled them northwest out of Dorf over rolling, grassy hills towards the forest in the distance.

“What took you so long?” Veera asked, no bitterness in her voice.

“I was talking. Mostly to the hunters who go into the Jagged Woods--apparently it has a name--and they gave me some advice on getting the wagon through safely.”

“‘Mostly’?”

“And... I was communing with Murder. Paladin stuff, you know.”

Annelie looked equally confused and worried until Veera leaned over and explained that Murder was the name of Zaz’s patron.

Perhaps two hours later, they stopped the wagon. The sun had slipped below the horizon as they crossed the fields, and traveling through an unfamiliar and hazardous forest by the starlight was an unpleasant thought.

As they prepared to settle down for the night on the edge of the Jagged Woods, Zazriel spoke up. “Tuule, Veera, Thalia... Murder would like to meet, personally, tonight. Let’s finish pitching camp, I’ll talk about it over dinner.”

“But not me?” Annelie asked, indignant.

“No, and I promise it’s for the best.”

She huffed, but let it go.

The party set about pitching their tents, building a fire, securing their wagon and finding a nice place to leash Hilda. They met around the roaring campfire Veera had built, hungrily breathing in the smell of the pork roasting over the flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to start with such a self-indulgent lemon, holy smokes prepare yourselves. I've been trying to fit it into the story since before chapter 1 was done.
> 
> I guess I should also point out here that Tabenon doesn't have a moon, since I can't figure out how to fit it into the text without just saying "Why don't we have a moon?" "What's a moon?" I like the idea of a night sky that's just stars, but still bright enough to kinda see by.


	5. Meeting Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party spend an evening communing with Murder, Zazriel's patron deity. She works some magics on them, for better or worse. Then they continue on to the port capital Gusen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait. Between OCtober and university and just... everything I haven't been able to write like I like to. Hopefully that'll change soon and I can get these rolling a lil more regularly.
> 
> Also, I've considered adding some kind of flag to warn readers where the extra smutty parts begin and end, but I didn't for this one. Should I? I know I have a couple readers who'd probably appreciate it.

After they ate and talked a short while, Annie retired to the tent while the rest gathered several paces outside the light of their smoldering campfire. The dragons and the vampire could easily see Zazriel’s anxiousness even in the dim starlight.

“You must do everything I tell you. Upsetting a god is...”

They understood. He had them all strip naked, carefully folding their clothes on the ground behind them. As they undressed, he talked them through several points of etiquette. Most sounded fairly familiar to the twins, though they were used to being the ones giving these commands, not receiving them. Speak only when spoken to, approach only with permission, obey.

When they felt ready, Zazriel nodded once and took off his woolen undershirt, tossed it aside, and stood in front of the others, who stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Zazriel broke the silence of the night with a single word, his gruff voice suddenly soft. “Murder?”

Nothing happened. There was a pause. A long pause. The twins looked at each other in bemusement and Thalia shifted her weight from foot to foot. Zazriel stood still, patiently waiting as if he’d done this a hundred times before.

Then a woman appeared before them, stepping down onto the grass as if from an invisible carriage. She looked human at first, but a second look proved this untrue. Black hair that wasn’t hair seemed to shimmer and flow like a waterfall of ink over her flawless, pale, nude body down to the ground where it appeared to soak into the dirt. Her face was beautiful beyond description, but the twins felt a shiver run down their spines as they looked into her eyes; they seemed like wells filled with stars, shining and colorful but deep and ominous.

She smiled warmly and held out her arms towards Zazriel, who stepped forward into her embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. The top of his head didn’t even reach her chin; as they embraced, his face was pressed into her chest. She laughed softly with genuine happiness; her voice sounded as if the finest, oldest wines had learned to speak. “Hello again, dear champion. It is good to see you,” she said. The others felt the warmth of her words like a bellyful of liquor, and could hardly help but to smile along with Murder’s delight.

After a few minutes or perhaps an instant or perhaps an hour, she released Zazriel from her embrace, though her hands lingered on his shoulders as he stepped back. They looked each other in the eyes, and the others felt that they had never seen true love until this moment as they watched Murder’s face glow with affection. Then she looked up at them. “And these are your companions?”

“Yes, my employers Tuule and Veera, and our pet vampire Thalia,” Zazriel introduced them, turning away slightly to point at each as he spoke their names.

“Quite. Mmm, they are a lot cuter in person,” Murder said with a salicious grin. She reached down and began stroking her champion’s dick to full hardness. “I see why you like sharing a tent, my dear.”

Zazriel moaned quietly but otherwise didn’t react. He stood still, hands at his sides, allowing her to play with him. Murder beckoned to the others with her free hand, and they approached warily but without hesitating. She leaned towards Veera, looming over the dragon, still stroking Zaz. “You must be the one warming my champion’s bed every night.”

Veera flushed and averted her eyes. Murder giggled at her demure attitude.

“I admit, I had no stake in the dragons’ war before my champion swore himself to you, naughty,” she admonished Zaz with a squeeze, eliciting a pained grunt. “But, your quest intrigues me. Still no luck getting knocked up by this mountain of man, hm?”

Veera shook her head, not looking Murder in the face.

“I think I can help with that,” Murder said, her playful grin stretching inhumanly wide. She stopped stroking Zaz and held him near the base. His flesh swelled under her hand, and within a minute he was sporting a knot twice as thick as the rest of his cock. Murder’s hand slid lower, and Zazriel groaned as the goddess’ blessing seeped into his testicles.

“So, um, why are you doing this?” Veera asked, finally meeting Murder’s gaze.

Murder laughed in amusement. “We deities are watching your war very closely, it’s the most interesting thing to happen in centuries. And a few of us have taken a particular interest in your journey. We’ve agreed amongst ourselves that there shall be no divine intervention. But granting boons isn’t intervention, is it?”

“I suppose that means you cannot send us some of your godly servants to cut our quest short, m’lady?” Tuule asked.

“Quite,” she replied, finally releasing Zazriel and turning to face the twins properly. “But, I shall grant you two my boon.”

She reached forward and grabbed each twin by the back of their head; not roughly, but very firmly. They were hoisted into the air by their hair, but it wasn’t painful. Rather, it felt like they were floating underwater and Murder was merely guiding their heads towards her breasts. As she pressed each twin’s mouth onto her pitch-black nipples, she commanded them, “Drink.”

Cream flooded their mouths, thick and savory and gushing by the bucket. Each twin grabbed at the breast in front of them, at the hand holding them in place a meter off the ground, struggling weakly in Murder’s grasp as they were force-fed her milk. The goddess didn’t budge, smiling like the breastfeeding mother she resembled in the moment.

Zazriel and Thalia watched in awe—Thalia moreso than Zaz—as the twins’ bodies changed as they drank. 

Tuule grew taller, his feet coming close to the ground despite still being held aloft; his musculature became much more defined, his hair a darker blond, his shoulders broader, his arms thicker, his hips narrower, his dicks longer. Thalia blushed as she stared at her master, drinking in every detail of his new figure.

Zazriel on the other hand was watching Veera; her hair became fairer and silkier, her breasts grew, her waist narrowed, her ass filled out, her hips widened, her thighs thickened, her legs lengthened. But though her feminine features were being exaggerated, her musculature strengthened to match Tuule’s. She was tall enough for her toes to actually touch the ground, and she looked strong enough to wrestle a bear with one hand tied behind her back.

When Murder finally set the twins down with a sigh of relief, they were barely recognizable from the nearly-identical androgynous figures they had been until now. Both staggered backwards, then flexed unfamiliar arms and legs, testing their new bodies. Tuule rolled his head around his shoulders then shifted partway into his dragon form, sprouting blue wings, horns, claws, and a tail to match as well as patches of scaled skin on his extremities. He tested his muscles again, then looked at Murder with reverence. He bowed deeply, curling one wing under his torso like a cape. “Thank you, Lady.”

Veera bowed as well, though not as steadily for her balance had shifted noticeably. When she straightened, she looked up to see the goddess regarding her with a salacious grin plastered across her holy face. “There is another boon I shall bestow upon you. Your womb shall be stronger yet.”

Veera opened her mouth to respectfully decline but was cut off as Murder scooped her up with one hand on the small of her back. The dragon girl was held upside down, her face inches from Murder’s glistening slit. “Lick, imbibe me.”

Veera’s initial instinct to resist was washed away by the goddess’ musk. She stretched out her tongue, and obeyed. Her own cunt quickly moistened as she did so. As she licked and swallowed, she felt a tingling in her guts that would have been a little concerning if she weren’t so consumed by the smell of lust. She heard Murder let out a single soft moan and barely managed to keep herself composed as a holy orgasm splashed into her mouth. She swallowed it all.

“One more touch,” Murder said breathily as she pulled Veera away and held her horizontally, facing the night sky. Veera craned her neck to look down between her own breasts as she felt Murder’s other hand slide up between her legs. A finger ran over Zaz’s glyph, erasing it from her skin. She opened her mouth to protest, but then threw her head back and screamed with pleasure as Murder began working fingers into her cunt. One, two, four, then her whole hand. Veera’s eyes crossed as Murder pushed her hand deep inside her, then laid her hand on the inside of the dragon’s womb. Veera felt a spark of hot pain for an instant before Murder withdrew her arm. “Much better,” the goddess mused as she licked Veera’s juices from her fingers.

She set Veera down on wobbly legs, but she soon fell to her knees. Zazriel knelt beside her and wrapped a steady arm around her shoulders. He studied her face as she looked up at him thankfully; her lips were fuller, her jawline smoother and more feminine, her eyes brighter and larger, eyelashes longer.

“Now then, what should I do to you?” Murder wondered aloud, looking over Thalia’s frail, pasty frame. Her face brightened after a moment as an idea occurred to her. She crooked a finger at the vampire, who approached close enough to smell Veera’s sex on her hand.

Murder held out a finger towards Thalia’s lips. “Have a sip,” she encouraged.

Zazriel looked up in shock, silently but urgently inquiring whether that was a good idea. Murder seemed unconcerned, but it did little to assuage her champion’s worry.

Thalia opened her mouth, baring a brace of fangs and extending a long pointed tongue. She gently bit into Murder’s finger and suckled the blood that dripped from the pinprick. Murder pulled her hand away after only a moment, but Thalia got enough blood to begin transforming. She grew much taller, easily as tall as Zazriel, and her womanly features became exaggerated in a weak imitation of Murder’s figure. 

The vampire gasped, and dumbly tried to chase Murder’s finger with her outstretched tongue to snatch even a single drop of blood more, but the goddess laid her palm against the vampire’s brow and held her at bay. “Oh dear dragon boy, haven’t you been feeding your pet?”

Tuule—once again in his human form—shifted uncomfortably at being addressed as such, but responded evenly. “Yes, she gets as much food and drink as the rest of us.”

Murder looked at him, equally amused and derisive. “Silly boy, she needs blood. Go on.”

She turned Thalia around and gave her a slap on the back so that she stumbled forward and fell to all fours at Tuule’s feet. He looked down at her, meeting her eyes, realizing for once just how thin and pathetic she looked, even after the godly transformation. He took a breath, then held out his hand to her. She bit down on it suddenly but gently, though he still winced as her needle-like fangs pierced the tender of his palm. She suckled on his hand, drinking from the two small streams of blood. Empowered as she was by holy blood, further transformation happened quickly. 

Her muscles became more defined as her whole figure became tighter, more sinewy like Veera while also bulking up slightly in stark contrast to the emaciated appearance more familiar to her. Her pointed ears rounded out and her skin became more colorful, less corpse-like. Her wavy hair became straighter and seemed to lighten in hue to reflect Tuule’s blond hair. She pulled away after a few moments and heaved a sigh of contentment. “Thank you, my lord...”

Tuule stood stock still, looking amazed and not a little worried; Murder laughed at his expression. “My my... Keep feeding her, boy; soon you’ll have a pet dragon instead.”

Tuule could only nod in response. He helped Thalia to her feet, then took an involuntary step back; she now stood head and shoulders above him. “I’m not sure I care for this new dynamic.”

“Apologies, m’lord,” Thalia replied, kneeling respectfully before him, hands on her knees.

“Well...” Tuule amended as his twin cocks stirred. “This isn’t so bad.”

“Go have fun you two!” Murder laughed. “I require some alone time with... Now now, who’s this?”

Zazriel turned to follow her gaze to see Annelie standing by the remains of the campfire, staring at them with her mouth hanging open.

“I told you to stay in the tent!” he snapped, but the goddess shushed him.

“If she’s curious, let her approach,” she said as she beckoned to dwarven girl forward.

Annie stepped towards them, head lowered, stammering excuses as she did. “I’m sorry I heard ya talkin’ and I got curious so I came to look and then I got scared when I-”

Her nose bumped into Murder’s knee; her view snapped upwards at the goddess looming over her tiny form. “So... Sorry.”

“You do find interesting ones, don’t you, champion?”

Zaz didn’t respond.

“So young and yet traveling across countries for a cause she has no stake in. What have the youths of this world become,” Murder mused sarcastically. “I really should teach her a lesson on the cruelty of the world.”

“Don’t hurt her, Murder,” Zazriel said. His voice was too firm for a plea, too reserved for a command.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, dear. She’s far too delicious to damage,” Murder purred as she kneeled on the grass to get closer to the dwarf, who had by now gotten the hint and stripped naked.

“Begging your pardon, Lady, I meant no harm,” Annie said, her voice quavering.

“Nonsense, I love meeting new people. But I love remaking them more!” Murder reached down and cupped the side of Annie’s face in one huge, slender palm. “But what shall I do to you?”

She ran her hand over Annie’s skin, exploring her stout frame: her peachy skin was rough but the flesh underneath was a healthy balance of muscle and fat; hairy like all dwarves, but feminine enough; pudgy but not excessively so around her middle; short and strong fingers; dark nipples on large, soft breasts; a virgin pussy that dripped under Murder’s inspection; an ass that any man would want in his lap. For a dwarf, she was a wonderful treat.

“A virgin? Not even self-discovery?”

“I had strict parents, Lady,” Annie responded respectfully, desperately trying not to squirm as Murder’s hand roamed over her naked body. “They raised me to save it for my husband.”

“And back here?” Murder ran a finger around her asshole.

Annie whimpered at her touch. “They never taught me to save that one, lady.”

Murder’s face split in a devious grin. “Indeed? Very well, turn around and bend over.”

Annie gulped but did as she was told, presenting her ass to the goddess. She felt a hand caress her hips and cheeks before a finger still slick with Veera’s sex pushed ever so slightly into her asshole. She moaned, then gasped as a flash of heat spread from Murder’s finger. The goddess withdrew, and Annie straightened up. “What was that?”

“A boon,” Murder replied with a smirk, still kneeling but towering over the dwarf nonetheless. “That will keep you clean and juicy, make you more pliable, rearrange a few internals, the usual.”

Annie just stared up at the goddess with a blank look. Zazriel elaborated: “You’re always ready to have a dick up your arse.”

The dwarf’s cheeks flushed, but she nodded, and gave a respectful bow. “Thank you, Lady.”

“We really should make sure it’s working,” Murder said with a wicked grin. “Oh, champion, before I steal you away, would you be so kind?”

Zaz stood, leaving Veera’s side and to stand in front of Annie. His knotted cock was still rigid, the flared head hovering over Annie’s face. She looked up at it with a fearful expression. “That’s going...?”

“Relax, this will be fun!” Murder clapped her hands like an excited princess. “Go on!”

Zazriel sighed and shot an apologetic look down at Annie before hoisting her up by her chunky hips, holding her several feet off the ground, facedown, with her ass rubbing against Zaz’s tip.

“But th-wait! That thing’s longer than me!”

Murder just rolled her eyes.

Zaz slowly pushed his cock into Annie’s asshole. She cried out in pain once, then her voice melted into pleasure-driven babbling. She orgasmed explosively, squirting onto Zaz’s bare feet. He was only an inch or two inside.

“Oh! And I made your ass much more sensitive, much more pleasurable. Forgot to mention,” Murder chuckled.

Zaz rolled his eyes and pulled Annie further down his cock, until her ring was resting on the front of his new knot. The bulge of his length inside her had reached her throat. Every inch was overwhelming her with pleasure; her eyes were rolled back and her vocalizations had lost all sense. She was limp in his grasp, and the throbbing of his cock made her whole body twitch to the beat of his heart. Her cunt was dripping continuously. “A little more to go. Ready?”

No answer. He looked up at Murder, who gave him a look that simply read “what are you waiting for?”

He gripped Annie’s ankles and pulled, forcing his massive knot into her ass. She shrieked as he slowly pushed the last inch of his cock into her. There was a soft _plop_ when the knot disappeared into her ass and she thumped against his hips. He shuddered with pleasure, feeling every inch of his length being squeezed by the tiny girl as she orgasmed again. “You good?”

A muffled answer, little more than a grunt. He placed one hand on her collarbone and pulled her up, so that her back was against his chest even as she remained impaled on his cock. He looked down at her face and blanched slightly. Three inches of his dick were poking out of Annie’s mouth, forcing her jaw wide open. Tears were gathered in her unfocused eyes.

Murder applauded. “Well done! Oh, I was hoping, but I didn’t really expect. Dear girl, you are going far in this world.” She stepped towards them and gently grabbed Annie around the throat, then simply pulled her off Zaz’s cock with a gross _slurp_. Annie coughed and sputtered and gasped for breath.

“That’s enough, Murder.”

“She ought to be rewarded, no?”

“I’d like one more, Lady,” Annie said, hoarse.

Murder smiled. She ran a finger around Annie’s mouth; the dwarf felt another flash of heat, and Zaz saw small markings appear on her lips. “Then one more your shall have! Let’s go the other way this time, yes?”

She held the dwarf out towards Zaz, faceup this time, her drooling mouth towards him.

He sighed, but pressed his cock against her lips, feeling her mouth stretch wide as he forced his way inside her again. Halfway down her throat, she began to swallow reflexively, continuously, milking him as he pushed inch after inch of cock into her. He moaned when her lips met his knot, and she kissed and sucked it as best she could. He went to pull her off, but Murder did not budge as she held her down.

“Murder...”

She pouted, but acknowledged his implication and pulled Annie off him. She gasped deeply, finally able to breathe again. “I feel a little lightheaded...”

“Just a little? Oh you are too cute,” Murder giggled before planting a little kiss on the dwarf’s cheek. She set her down gently next to Veera, flat on her back.

“Come now, champion, I have waited long enough,” Murder said with a smile. Zaz smiled too, and allowed her to take him by the arm. They walked off towards the treeline, skirting Tuule who was balls-deep in Thalia, drawing yelps and shrieks of pleasure from the vampire every time he thrust both cocks into her. Murder smirked at them, and they both came with loud moans, soaking the ground with sex, but did not stop, so consumed were they by holy pleasure.

Veera watched her lover and his patron wander off, feeling suddenly lonely. She stretched out on the soft grass, feeling it tickle her back. Her eyes wandered across the night sky, trying to see if a particularly bright star was missing tonight.

“She seems fun,” Annie rasped, her voice soaked with sarcasm.

“Quite fun.”

“... So are you and Zaz... um.”

“Hm?”

“Married?”

“Oh, no, gods no. I have another several years before I even start _thinking_ about marriage.”

“Oh. But ya want to have kids with him?”

“Uh...” Veera hesitated, then gave an abbreviated version of the story behind their quest: not enough blue dragons, maybe the nephilim of Isekaino can be breeding stock since there’s none at home. And since Zaz is nephilim... Well, she was just testing the waters.

“No dragons? Can’t you get a husband from a different color?”

“We used to. The whites are a neutral clan that thrive on breeding pacts, where they send one or two potential mates to our palace in exchange for extravagant dowries. But since the war broke out, they’ve refused to take sides. Their borders are closed, and they send away any courier without even hearing their messages.”

“Why not just win the war? Y’know, be clever and go on the attack.”

Veera sighed in irritation. “Because the moment we begin fighting in earnest, the other colors will send out their sons. One alone is worth hundreds of slaves. And we barely hold the manpower advantage as it is. Trust me, every question you have has been discussed _at length_ in the Blue Palace. My brother suggested Isekaino because nephilim can breed with anything, and it was the only solution we could come up with.”

Annie went to ask another question, but thought better of it and shut her mouth. For a few minutes, the only sound was the panting and giggling of Tuule and Thalia, finally exhausted.

Eventually, the four of them got up and staggered to the tent to sleep the rest of the night. Each of them tucked into their bedrolls, but they couldn’t doze off, despite their exhaustion. So much had happened to them so quickly, and they were still running high on adrenaline and endorphins.

Veera broke the silence. “What do you think they’re doing out there?”

“I’ll give ya two guesses,” Annie snarked. Veera reached over and playfully slapped her for want of a retort, earning a laugh from the other three. “I know what ya mean, though, boss lady. It seems like they made a bit of a faff for just a shag.”

“I... yeah, yeah it does.”

“Bet you a gold piece he brushes it off as ‘paladin stuff’ when we ask him about it in the morning,” Tuule said.

“No bet,” all three girls replied at once.

* * *

When they awoke late in the morning, they found Zazriel already breaking camp and preparing Hilda the horse-ox and the wagon for the journey into the Jagged Wood.

“Morning, sleepyheads,” he teased.

“Be fair, you’re used to the whole sex goddess thing,” Annelie said through a yawn.

“I’m still here,” Murder laughed.

Annie yelped as the “sex goddess” came round the wagon to smirk down at the dwarf, hands on her hips.

She bowed quickly. “I’m sorry, Lady, I didn’t... I mean I thought...”

“Think nothing of it. Our communion is long over, I’m simply relaxing here before I return to Heaven. It’s refreshing to inhabit a mortal body for a short time, to feel the grass and the wind and the skin of a lover. If any of you end up as seraphim, you’ll cherish the rare moments you spend on Tabenon.” She breathed a deep sigh and turned to her champion. “Well, my dear, it’s about time for me to leave you, once again.”

He quickly finished his fiddling with the wagon canvas and approached her. She reached out to caress his face, and he leaned into her hand, laying one of his over it. “Don’t be gone so long this time,” he said with a small smile.

She returned it, then withdrew several paces. She nodded farewell to the others, then turned and stepped up into thin air. Just as quickly as she had appeared the night before, she was gone. 

The five stared after her for a minute. The dragons had communed with deities before, but never a god. Annie was familiar with the church, but only the church itself. And as far as Thalia was concerned, the deities were little more than myths. Until last night.

So they stood, and stared. And thought. Especially about the changes she had forced upon them.

“Let’s think while we move. Grab your gear, let’s break camp and get back on the road,” Zazriel ordered.

“Not that there’s much of a road to get on,” Veera grumbled, casting her gaze across the treeline. There was one break in the tightly-packed trees only barely wider than their wagon; the ground seemed trafficked enough to be considered a trail, but certainly not a road.

“It’ll be fine. Turns out the farmers on this side take their carts through here to Gusen every harvest. It’s not fast, but it’s passable. C’mon now, break camp.”

They scrambled around, still groggy, loading everything onto the wagon. Soon enough, they were underway once again.

Zazriel walked in front of Hilda while the rest rode in the wagon with Tuule on the reins. They never moved faster than a leisurely walking pace for fear of catching a wagon wheel on one of the trees growing along the trail; the trees were so close it felt more like a tunnel than a forest trail. Occasionally they would stop as Zaz removed a fallen log or other obstruction, but all told they made good time.

But as the sun began to set, a crack of lightning split the dusk.

Within minutes, they were under a deluge. The dirt trail turned to mud and each of them were drenched.

“Dismount! We gotta keep the wagon moving!”

Tuule handed the reins to Annie, who moved to lead Hilda along the trail that was quickly becoming a muddy stream. The others walked alongside the wagon, leaning into it whenever it started to sink or got caught on a freshly-uncovered tree root.

Thunder rolled overhead constantly, so close and heavy that the ground trembled. The lightning came often enough that they could clearly see where they were going despite the stormclouds blocking out whatever daylight remained.

If it was slow going before, now they were at a crawl.

And the rain was only getting worse.

“We can’t keep going like this!” Tuule had to shout to be heard over the storm. “We need to find a cave or something!”

Zaz’s head twitched as a thought occurred to him. “Can you carry Hilda?”

“Of course!”

“Veera! Anchor the wagon! Annie! On me! Thalia! This way!”

He helped Annelie scramble up onto his shoulders, then led Thalia off the path to one of the many narrow ravines that gave the Jagged Wood its name. They jumped down into it; the sheer granite walls rose a few feet above Zaz’s head. He stood ankle deep in a muddy stream, but the rain was noticeably less pervasive down here.

“A moment.” He didn’t have to shout down here, thankfully. With a series of patterned hand-waves and melodic mutterings, he cast a spell on the rock around them. The earth closed together on two sides: upstream and above. It completely blocked the rain and the stream, and soon the ground was almost dry.

“Annie, go get the dragons, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” the dwarf replied. He helped her up to the lip of the ravine, and she disappeared from sight. A couple minutes later, two figures dropped into the ravine in front of Zaz’s makeshift shelter. Veera held Annie and a satchel of foodstuffs. Tuule carried Hilda over his shoulders, hefting the huge beast of burden as if he was carrying a puppy.

The party of five—plus one horse-ox—huddled together, sharing body heat and a few small fire spells. Soon, they were dry and warm, despite the deluge continuing unabated.

“How long do you think this will continue?” Veera asked.

“I haven’t got a clue. I’ve never seen a storm blow in that hard that quickly before... except...”

“Zaz?”

“A moment, please. I need to check something.” The paladin kneeled and bowed his head. The others waited in silence, curious.

“It’s a curse,” Zaz declared suddenly, jolting out of his trance. “This is no natural storm.”

“Anything you can do about it?”

“Not at the moment, I’m exhausted. As are the rest of you. Let’s sleep for now. When we’re fresh, I’ll try to dispel the curse.”

Despite the raw stone shelter, they rested, propped up against the walls and each other. It was an uneasy sleep, though at least uninterrupted. They awoke early in the morning only to see the rain was still pouring down. But now, Zazriel was at full strength. He stepped out of their shelter into the water and raised both arms towards the sky. His hands glowed white as he roared, “By Murder’s holy hand, I break this curse! By Murder’s holy hair, I dispel this storm!”

Within a minute, the rain and thunder had stopped. The others poked their heads out of the shelter and looked up into the clearest morning sky they could ask for.

“Well, that’s that.” Tuule said dumbly, failing to hide his bewilderment. “Stars above, Zaz...”

“Just doing my job. Come on Annie, I’ll help you up.”

Ten minutes later, they were back on the move. Hilda brayed meekly every time her hoof slipped in the mud, but the party was there to help her and the wagon along the trail.

Though progress was still painfully slow, by nightfall they had doubled yesterday’s progress. They didn’t stop to sleep this time; instead, Thalia took the reins while the rest slept. Hilda found her stride even among the muck, and they continued through the night.

They were awoken late in the morning by a shout from Thalia. “The end! I see the end of the forest!”

* * *

Gusen was a colossal capital of coastal commerce. Thousands of merchants hawked their wares on the winding, damp, cramped streets. Dozens of ships milled about the harbor; some coming, some going, some loading, some resting. Though it didn’t seem possible, Gusen was even larger, more crowded, more cacophonous than Capital had been. Thalia covered her ears as Veera drove the wagon down the main road towards the docks, where the distant water glimmered in the afternoon light. Zazriel and Tuule had gone ahead on foot to book passage across the Center.

The Center was known to all the adventurers, but only Zaz had any firsthand experience. It was a wide channel running between the West and East Lands. Those waters were always rough, as a storm raged eternal where the cold air of the East met the warm air of the West. Even from Gusen, the party could see thunderheads on the horizon. Crossing the Center required patience, perfect timing, and comprehensive knowledge of the few safe corridors through the storms.

One thing at a time. They’ve been on the road for over a week, without any long stops besides their divine encounter at the entry to the Jagged Wood. They all longed for a night in a real bed, after a hot meal in a warm canteen. The girls found an inn that had room for Hilda and their wagon, then Thalia went out to find Tuule, following her instinctive attraction to her master’s blood. She tried to ignore the astonished and lusty stares from the locals as she followed the winding streets to the docks.

Meanwhile, Zazriel and Tuule were facing the same issue of drawing stares from bystanders, though they were focused on haggling with a captain at the moment. He was a regular, who routinely brought loads of trade goods to the East then turned around and took passengers to the West. There would be no trouble bringing Hilda and their wagon onboard, though they’d have to supply her food. Not an issue, but his passenger cabins came at a premium.

“I charge extra for an empty bunk. Empty bunks means passengers who won’t get across this week,” he said, and refused to budge for all their haggling. Five adventurers were plain out of luck: they had to reserve two cabins, one for two and one for four; the empty bed cost three times as much as a filled one. He wouldn’t allow them to double up on a bunk either. “There are rules. They do not bend for anyone. Not even clergy,” he huffed, glaring at Zazriel’s pendant stamped with the Cap’s insignia.

The captain agreed to reserve the cabins, after Tuule paid for six full beds, but declared he would not let them aboard if they showed up in the morning with only five passengers. Rather than argue further, they headed to a nearby tavern to see if there was a solo traveller who’d be willing to share a cabin.

They towered over the other clientele, making it easy enough to scan the room over the heads of drunken revelers singing and dancing between the heavy wooden tables. Tuule pointed towards a dark corner at the back. “Reminds me of when we met you,” he remarked. A lone figure sat at a table, dressed in full plate armor and staring down at a tankard on the table. Exaggerated curves in the breastplate declared its wearer to be female.

They went to the bar for three tankards of beer, then weaved through the tables and revelers to her table. They sat and placed one of the tankards in front of her, causing her to look up at them. Much like Zazriel, her face was completely hidden behind the faceplate of her helmet, only the dim candlelit glimmer of her eyes visible through the sight in her visor.

“Hello there,” Tuule cooed. Murder’s magic had done wonders for his physical appeal, even his voice was richer.

“Hi,” the suit of armor replied. Her voice was low, but young, and rang metallic much like Zaz’s.

“What’re you doing all alone over here?”

“Thinking.”

Tuule’s flirtatious facade broke down, and his smile disappeared. “I’ll cut to the chase. Do you want to sail across the Center? We need one more body to fill our cabin. The beer’s just to break the ice.”

She nodded, then lifted the proffered tankard to the gap between her helm and breastplate. The men shared a concerned look as she poured the entire drink—from what they could tell—down her chest. She spoke even as she did this. “We... wish to leave.”

Tuule nodded. “Okay, great. Can you pay for the bunk?”

She placed the empty tankard on the table. Each movement was deliberate: smooth but slow. “Not with coin. But we can trade.”

“Works for me,” Zazriel said. “The bunk’s already paid for, anyway.”

“Hold on for a moment. What will you do once we make it to the West?”

She lifted her head slightly as if to speak, but paused, then “drank” from her original tankard instead. The men shared another look. She responded after a long slow draught.

“Nothing. Leave, travel.”

“Zaz, I don’t like this. You know how—”

“Yes I do, but that’s not reason enough to dismiss her out of hand. If nothing else, it’ll save us enough money to buy a week of travel provisions. We don’t have time to be picky, the ship leaves at dawn.”

Tuule sighed, conceding the point. “Miss, I ask because our party is travelling in secret for very important, very personal reasons. I will not allow anyone to jeopardize it, especially not a stranger we happen to bunk with.”

She nodded. “I am Taffeta. We wish only to leave.”

“Again with the ‘we’,” Tuule grumbled to himself.

“Miss Taffeta, why not join our party on a more... long-term basis, then? The sponsor here gets to keep his eye on loose ends, and you get to travel far away from Gusen.”

“Zaz what—”

“It’s a win-win, right? We already have a couple tagalongs, one more won’t break the horse-ox’s back.”

Tuule fumed, but kept his tone cool. “Granted, but I’d rather you consult me before offering.” He turned to Taffeta. “My initial reservations aside, the offer stands. So?”

She didn’t hesitate this time. “We accept thankfully.”

“Lovely. One last question: is that the royal ‘we’ or...” Tuule trailed off, not sure how to finish the question.

“We... Um, _I_ have a... companion.” She looked away.

“A familiar?” Zazriel asked, intrigued.

“Of... of sorts,” she replied, still not meeting his eyes.

The big paladin laughed. “Don’t worry, we all have secrets in this party. You’ll fit right in.”

“Who’ll fit right in?” The three looked up to see Thalia approaching their table. She smiled warmly at her master.

“Ah, Thalia! Perfect timing, meet the newest member of our party.”

To her credit, Thalia didn’t show any concern at the surprise new addition. “Hello, who are you?”

“We... I am Taffeta.”

The vampire shot a nervous look towards the men, which Zazriel waved away. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything in private.”

“Very well. I came to bring you to our inn room for the night, the other girls are already settling in.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

They stood and wound through the crowd towards the door, though Tuule broke off to pick up the tab. As he paid, the bartender leaned in. “Careful around that one, she’s trouble,” he said quickly and quietly.

Tuule crooked an eyebrow. “What kind of trouble?” He asked, discretely placing an extra gold piece on the counter, which the bartender swiped up just as subtly.

“She’s a witch, she is. Lives in the Jagged Wood, laid a curse on it. Rumors are she fucks monsters to bring them under her spell, that she has a whole army of hybrid children. She makes animals and monsters attack caravans going around the Wood, and ‘er storms stop wagons going straight through.”

Tuule nodded. Some truth in all the rumors, perhaps. “I think we encountered her storms, actually. Don’t worry, friend, the storms shouldn’t be any more trouble; we have a powerful paladin who broke her spell with a word. And I’ve killed dozens of monsters in my time. We’ll be fine.”

One dose of embellishment deserves another. He turned away and left the tavern as the bartender gaped at his back.

Thalia led the three of them back up into the city proper, again ignoring the gazes her curvy frame drew; though now, with Tuule close behind, the gazes lingered only so long as it took to notice the intimidating man walking with her. Or the even more intimidating paladin behind him. Even Taffeta, who looked like a young lass next to them despite her average height, convinced bystanders that their gazes were better directed elsewhere.

Zaz walked beside Taffeta, occasionally glancing down to the top of her steel helmet and the crude but intricate filigree carved into every smooth surface of her armor. He recognized some patterns as magical glyphs from his time in monasteries, but most were unfamiliar. Even though she wore full plate armor, she barely made a sound as they hiked uphill towards the inn. The plates were silent as they slid over each other. There was no jangling from what little equipment she wore: a leather traveler’s bag, a belt with several fist-sized pouches, not much else—not even a weapon. A muffled, if heavy, footfall was the only sound she made. The paladin idly wondered if this was due to her familiar, or something more.

***

Their room was meant for eight, so it was plenty roomy even though most of them were now inhumanly tall. Annelie had made sure a huge dinner was ready for them when they arrived. They undressed for bed even as they gorged themselves on fresh fowl and fish and bread—a welcome relief from the salted red meat and raw vegetables and hard biscuit they’ve been sustained on for the last several days.

Taffeta was startled at Zaz’s appearance as he removed his armor for the evening; she stared at his horns and his red skin and his black eyes. He just laughed it off. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll get used to it.”

“There’s a few other things you’ll hafta get used to if yer gonna stay with us,” Annie snickered, licking her lips, which were still covered in swirling patterns left by Murder’s touch. She shivered with pleasure as she did. It didn’t look like the patterns—or the sexually-charged magic they conferred—would fade anytime soon. “So go on, what’s under that tin can?”

“Annelie,” Zazriel said. Firmly but not loudly, like a stern father. She shrank away from him. “It’s her first night with us. Be civil.”

“You railed me like a horse on my first night!” Veera protested.

“Because you, my employer, insisted. And agreed to pay a bonus, which I’m still keeping track of.”

Veera shut up, her face red.

Zaz nodded, satisfied. He turned to the newcomer. “They do have a point, though. We won’t force you, but you’ll have to get comfortable with our... _antics_ , shall we say.”

“Speaking of,” Tuule said, “I’m going to get started over here, so just ignore us.” 

He hooked a finger through a steel ring on Thalia’s collar, then led her to a couple beds he had pushed together. She stripped and knelt in front of him, her face turned up to his. He used a fingernail of one hand to cut open his other palm, then held out his hand so that blood dripped down onto Thalia’s waiting tongue. He smirked, basking in the authoritative power he felt through the act.

“Yeah, that’s become a  daily thing for them,” Veera rolled her eyes and looked back to Taffeta. “At least it’s quieter than...”

Tuule hauled her onto the beds. Soon they were moaning aloud, with occasional yips from the submissive vampire.

“Than that. Quieter than that,” Veera finished, with an exaggerated sigh of frustration.

“I got it,” Zaz said as he reached out a hand towards the master and slave. Their corner of the room fell silent under his spell. “Much better. They can still hear us so no name-calling. Now then, Taffeta...”

She tore her gaze away from Tuule’s bare ass at the mention of her name.

“A familiar?”

She nodded once, but thought for a moment before speaking. “It lives in our armor. We share a mind—no... we exchange thoughts. Not words; feelings, emotions, desires. It helps me, I help it.”

“May we meet it? What is it?”

The party was curious, almost anxious. Even the lovebirds in the corner had slowed their pace to listen.

Taffeta didn’t answer. She muttered to herself for a moment, then reached up and removed her helmet. Annie winced when she saw her face, but the others maintained their composure.

Taffeta’s face was covered in rough, badly-healed scars. Two especially large ones ran back across her face from the corners of her mouth, making her mouth look like a huge crooked frown. Her head was shaved, but clearly not by choice; her scalp was woven with more scars, from pressure cuts and burns. Both ears were missing small chunks. Her eyebrows had been burned off, and her nostrils had been sliced from the inside out. But her eyes... Her eyes were clear and fierce. The purple irises seemed to glow with an internal fire.

“I am Taffeta. This is Linen,” she said. Without the helmet, her voice was deep and strong, despite a slight rasp. When she spoke the other name, a fist-sized tendril of purple slime rose from her breastplate. It stuck up next to her face, and seemed to look around at the other adventurers, appraising them. It almost-glowed with the same light Taffeta’s eyes did. “We travel as one.”

“That explains your armor,” Zaz mused, mostly to himself. “Can it speak?”

“Only to me.”

“May I try?” he asked, reaching a bare hand out towards them.

Taffeta knitted her brow as if thinking hard, then nodded. Zaz took two steps forward so that his hand hovered just in front of Taffeta’s chin, palm up. The slime waved back and forth slightly as if making up its mind, then laid the bulbous end of the tendril into his hand. The others didn’t see anything happen, but he could feel the slime, experience it. He got a sense for its history—and by extension Taffeta’s. Hunger, pain, hate, relief, fear, power, vengeance, peace, loneliness. All of this understood in only a few seconds.

Zaz nodded and stepped back, allowing the slime to retreat back into its armored home. “Thank you, both. Don’t worry,” he addressed the others, “we have nothing to fear from them.”

“A slime...” Veera murmured. “Especially one this... advanced, will have a core. And probably a fairly large one. It cannot be destroyed so long as its core survives and is given enough fluid and sustenance. Fascinating creatures, but I’ve never seen one before.”

Taffeta blushed furiously and donned her helm again. “It’s heart is hidden.”

Annie grinned wickedly. “Is it in yer ass?”

Zaz reached down to slap the back of her head. “Stop it.”

“Oww, I’m just askin’!”

Taffeta shook her head.

“Is it...”

“No more guesses. Drop it.”

“Fine. Spoilsport.”

Zaz rolled his eyes, then stripped down to his shirt and laid in bed on his side, making an effort to hide his manhood from Taffeta—more for her sake than his. Veera also stripped and snuggled into the nook between his chin and knees. They wrapped arms around each other and breathed a slow deep contented sigh. Annie pouted at being the odd one out—forgetting Taffeta for a moment—and crawled into bed alone. Though she kept herself company best she could.

The newcomer stood for a few minutes more, processing everything she had seen and heard tonight. There was a lot to process, to be fair. But she felt an incredible sense of relief regardless of the antics Zaz had warned her about. After years of living alone for fear of being mocked, or killed, or worse, she had found a group who welcomed her. Not only allowed her into the party, but _accepted_ her, going so far as to be fascinated by her _unique_ companion. She shed a few small tears of emotion, which Linen drank with its tendrils even before they wet her cheek.

Linen coated her entire body, even most of her face, acting as the liner between her bare skin and the metal armor. It fed off her, but also fed her. It could put superhuman strength into her movements with a thought, or harden its viscous body to protect Taffeta against blows even her armor wouldn’t survive, or—with Taffeta’s aid—absorb an ungodly amount of magical energy and feed it back to her. She fed off the magical energy it absorbed to weave magics that would be impossible for anyone weaker than a lesser demon. The slime sustained her in ways she had thought impossible. She protected Linen, and obtained more food for it than it could ever hope to stumble upon by itself in the woods. It could consume anything, dissolving food and liquid into its body, then feed her carefully-crafted parts of itself to pass on the sustenance she needed. Each were weak in their own ways, but together they were stronger than most mortals. They gave each other life, in a quite literal sense.

She slept in her armor, flat on her back in bed. It felt safer, more familiar, more comfortable than a thin mattress and a scratchy blanket. The weight of the steel plate caused the old wooden bedframe to creak when she first laid down, but otherwise she made no sound. She didn’t even snore, unlike some people in this party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the lore dump on Taffeta. she's my newest character and i got a lil too excited. i literally invented her several hours before writing the second half of this chapter, and most of her appearance and ability AS i was writing it. had a lil too much spontaneous fun :3


End file.
